Holding my Soul
by Zukanna
Summary: When you lose everything what do you do? When a young damaged soul finds herself somewhere unimaginable will she give up? Or survive and become stronger with the help of a chosen few? Note: change of author name from Mademoiselle Morte to Zukanna
1. Carbon Copy

**Hello all! Holding my Soul is back and better! According to most people anyway. I have a few notes before the beginning of this prologue but I'll keep it quick. I shouldn't actually be posting this without finishing chapter one but oh well!**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Lord of the Rings, the ideas behind it, the places or characters or plot of LOTR. This story is purely for recreational purposes.

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My minimum amount for each chapter is now 10 pages, not including my prologue which is 9 pages.

I will not have a set update time but any body who wants to be informed of an update give me your email address in a review.

This version is A LOT darker then the first one, and very different, although the basic storyline is more or less the same.

The starting point in the LOTR universe is different! In case of any confusion later on, the council has already happened when Rowan arrives.

Tawny is no longer included in this story, as such I am including her in Daughter Dearest

**Warning:** Obscene language, attempted sexual situation, mental and physical abuse.

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**Holding my Soul**

**Prologue**

'**Carbon Copy'**

The first time it happened…well I'm not sure exactly, but I was young….very young. Of course at that age you don't really realise what is going on, you just think it's an adult thing…that you'll understand when you get older, just go along with it, 'it'll be alright' they say, so you do. But as the years go by you start to realise that, wait a second, what is going on, and the fact is, you never really do….know that is. Some people in this world just…well, are just like that, they do things beyond comprehension whether it be murdering someone, raping a woman, or a boy perhaps, killing a cat, eating a live bird, abuse their partners or beat their children.

Yes it does happen, though not for discipline, these people go beyond that, they take the power of God into their hands and believe that they can wield it, that they are 'the' authority, whether it be in that house, that street, that block, that village even and to someone so young, so naïve to the workings of the adult world around them…sometimes they believe the words and fists they grow up with…

…Rowan knew she shouldn't have been late home, she just knew it but it had been raining so she had had to wait for the 113 bus, which everyone always knew was late, by exactly 5 minutes, but late anyway, them there had been the car accident down by Thornway avenue, the Denton's 4x4 had crashed into a smaller saloon car so the traffic jam had been trailing back a good 3 miles so that had made her even later and now as she jogged up the pathway to her front door her watch read 3:50, she was half an hour late.

'Damn that stupid bus, damn that Denton boy and damn everything!' With her black shoulder bag flung haphazardly over her shoulder Rowan let the old Iron Gate swing shut behind her before jumping the steps two at a time while hurriedly fishing out her front door keys from her black corduroy jeans. She didn't make it.

Just as her fingers grasped the cold metal of her keys the door opened, letting the light from the hallway spill around her, blinding her temporarily before her eyes could fix on the figure standing firmly in the doorway, her father. A not so happy look on his face, he was not happy.

It wasn't as if he was an imposing man to look at, he was quite a short man actually, balding and anyone would put him in his mid to late 40's at least, but that didn't make him safe, no, he didn't like to accept his lot in life so he kept trying to go beyond that, to become more, and he had found the perfect way to become the be all and end all, at least at home he had.

"Get in" His words were short, stunted as he held the door open for his wayward daughter.

She walked in with barely a word, letting her keys rest once more within the depths of her pockets as she, ever so carefully, controlled the fine shaking throughout her body as she quietly placed her trainers on the hallway shoe rack and put her bag inside the cupboard, knowing that the evening had barely even started.

After putting her bag away she turned around, brushing a strand of wayward hair behind her ear as she kept her eyes focused on her father, alert and waiting for him, to explode, to yell, anything really... He had shut the door and had slid the dead bolt into place while she had put her things away, but it wasn't to keep people out, no, it was to keep people in. Swallowing convulsively as she watched him, he walked up to her; his movements were finely controlled, just like every other aspect of his life. His loathed disorder, disrespect.

He walked up to her, standing barely an inch taller then her, smiling slightly he ran a hand through her mahogany curls, tender almost like another father might do in comfort, but there was no tenderness in his eyes, he smiled at her again as his hand slid into hers as he led her, silent as lamb, into the kitchen.

He was playing the cat it seemed, but where was the mouse?

The kitchen was as cold as ever, the pale cream tiles around the walls reflecting the harsh glare of the light into her eyes. So sterile…so clean, orderly, just as her father liked, perfection it seemed. Not a pan out of place, the chairs were perfectly lined up, pushed under the breakfast table in the corner, all apart from one.

Frowning slightly she let him lead her to the chair, its back up against the table, why was it like that? He hated the chairs being moved around…he hated…well, he hated a lot of things. She was almost too scared to even think what could be going on, he had never been this silent before, never this calm when she 'disobeyed' him, when she didn't follow his rules exactly. What was he up to? But more importantly, did she really want to know?

"Da-" She bit her tongue as she felt the tips of his fingers dig into her palm, his nails pressing hard against the delicate skin. He didn't want her to talk…he never really did anyway. She just hadn't learnt to shut up yet, his house, his rules, she had no right to go against them. No right.

"Sit" Short and curt, he pushed her down onto the seat, the cold of the wood seeping through her corduroys to give a slight tingle, almost as if it also was trying to keep her quiet, warning her in some way.

Green eyes, dark with confusion and fear, followed his form as he paced in front of her, contemplating it seemed, what to do, to say…either way, it took his attention off of her for a moment longer…a single moment was better then nothing.

You learned to appreciate the little things in her father's home, maybe that was what he wanted, to teach that you never took something for granted…maybe he wanted to teach gratitude? His mental workings were beyond her, but still, in those spare moments free from him, she liked to ponder, to think of things she knew did her no good.

But then again, she wasn't a good girl was she?

She had never been a good girl, a single phrase had taught her this…it was something she couldn't escape, he had apologised to her once because of it, apologised that he hadn't killed her at birth…her eyes were like hers he said, green, the colour of freshly grown grass in spring. "The perfect Carbon Copy", if she hadn't of known better in her younger years, she would have thought that had been her name.

'The perfect Carbon Copy'.

She didn't need to ask who of…her mother, biologically only. "A drunken whore who had never learnt to keep her legs closed to all but her husband", that's what he said. He had destroyed all the pictures of that woman, all but one. Her.

With a green eyes, pale skin and mahogany curls, she looked like her, she even had her mannerisms apparently. She tapped her fingers against her thumb when she was nervous, and twirled a single curl framing her face when she was deep in thought. She knew all about this, he had watched her when she was little, almost like a child would look upon a decaying animal by the roadside, in a horrified fascination as she grew into the one person he despised, the one person who had disobeyed him.

He had tried to beat it out of her, with belt or fist. Tried to beat out the bad genes within her, he didn't want a whore for a daughter, didn't want her to look like the woman he had foolishly married.

"Pay attention when I'm talking at you!" She jumped, startled as she met his flat, grey eyes for a second before looking down, not wanting her thoughts to linger on the fact that she had just ignored him, been so absorbed in her selfish thoughts that she had forgotten his presence. He wouldn't like that, no. He wouldn't.

She heard a sigh from her right before a hand landed on her shoulder "I try hard, I really do. But there's no fighting it is there" A single finger trailed up her neck, a bare touch that she shuddered at. "You've come home late three times in the past month, I've tried to ignore it, not wanting to think bad of my little girl" It traced the shell of her ear, tender, sweet…almost seductively.

"I mean, what father wants to wake up to the realisation that his daughter, the one he's tried so hard to make a good girl of, has been doing some rather 'questionable' things. I mean, you've never been late before, it's the new kid isn't it? Nick Chambers if I'm correct" His palm rested against the nape of her neck, fingers curling ever so slightly around her throat. "That stupid punk, what is it you find so charming about him, the earring? The tattoos? Or did you just want a nice raw fuck" He paused, leant down with his lips brushing against her ear "Just like your mother"

She shook her head, a small one, trying to keep his lips from contact with her ear. Her fingers gripped the edges of the chair in denial, she hadn't done anything wrong, she'd been a good girl, she had been!

"I haven't Daddy, I swea-" His fist was fast, she had to give him that. Almost quicker then the eye could see she lay on the floor, her cheek and hip throbbing from impact, against floor and fist. She kept her head turned away, knowing that if she tried to defy him, he would just get worse.

"Oh sweetheart" He kneeled down beside her fallen form, a look of concern marring his usually cold features "It's okay sweety, Daddy didn't mean to hurt you…you just made him mad is all" His hand was back, stroking her arm as he cooed gently at her, leaning in slightly so that she felt the heat of his legs through his and her trousers against her own.

She kept quiet now, knowing that he was in a mood which could easily turn violent, at least he wasn't hurting her, she was thankful for that.

His hand kept stroking her arm, soft crooning noises coming from his throat as he calmed her down, like someone would an injured cat, calm it before it got angry, before it became disobedient…

"It's okay sweety, Daddy will make sure you're a good girl…I'll deal with this Nick for you, I'll take temptation from your doorstep…"

His voice was becoming distant as his eyes seemingly glazed over in thought…he rarely went into such a state as far as she knew, he liked to be in command, and he always liked to look in control, as though he knew everything in advance, he never had to consider anything…he always knew.

Still lying still on the kitchen floor, Rowan looked around carefully, wondering if she could somehow get him to let her go to her room, maybe she'd offer to cook the dinner tonight, it was usually taken in turns…but when she offered to help more then her fair share, he liked it, liked to think he had done that, created a humble, helpful creature.

It was as she stared almost pleadingly at the entrance to the hallway from the kitchen that she noticed the change, his hand was slowly moving down her arm, still soothing, still gentle, but it was moving downwards, to her corduroy covered hip as he began to mumble under his breath…his eyes were no longer glazed…they were angry.

They seemed to burn, his lips were turned into a sneer as he stared down at her in disgust, at complete opposites with his hand, but he wasn't soothing, it wasn't in him to be soothing, he was up to something, and whatever it was, the dark look in his eyes did not bode well for her, it never had done.

"…and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…" His lips moved barely as he spoke, his voice raising as she felt the bite of his clenched hand on her thigh.

"Dadd-" He slammed her down, anger and disgust warring in his eyes as his hands, harsh against her, pinned her hands above her head, slamming them against the hard floor.

"Disgusting little whore, you like it then do you? Like it rough, like to take a tumble with a punk then do you!" His hands were shaking above her, one slowly clasping around her throat as she lay beneath him, like a rabbit faced with a hunting hound, it knew it wouldn't survive.

"S-stop it Daddy, you're scaring m-"

The resounding slap seemed to echo through the sterile kitchen, bouncing off of the white, emotionless walls.

"Shut up! I will not have a child of mine talking back!" His breath grew ragged as his hand slid from her throat down to her blouse, ripping the top button from its threads. "You like it, that's why you're such a bad girl…I'll make you hate it! I'll make you hurt so god damned bad you'll never be bad again! You hear me!"

She shook her head violently "I didn't do anything, he doesn't even know I exist!"

"Shut up! Don't you dare lie to me you little cow! I've seen him walking you to school, does he take you against the wall in the alley on Cords street! That's where all the loose girls go, did you spread for him like a bad little girl!"

Spittle running down his chin in anger he shook with rage, his hand finally just ripping down the buttons of the blouse to reveal the small vest top beneath. "I won't have another whore living in this house! I will not! You'll learn to be a good girl! I'll not have you act this way. You are not your mother! You are my child…"

She bucked, her knee making contact with his shin, she was shaking in fear, trying to twist out of his grasp…he couldn't, she bit back a sob, he wouldn't dare, he was her father…"Daddy, please…I'll be good I promise…I-I'll do whatever you want…just please stop, you're hurting me"

"Good, the maybe you'll learn to keep your clothes on!" He smirked darkly as his trembling fingers left her vest top riding high on her stomach to the button on her trousers "Or do you do it with your clothes on, just pull down your panties and trousers to your knees…a quickie, is that what you're good at!"

"No!" She shook her head again, denying every accusation he threw at her. "I didn't-I never did anything! I've been a good girl!" She screamed, her head flying back against the floor in the chaos.

"Who's! Mine or his!" He leaned in close, his cheek resting against hers as his hand lay trapped between them, popping the button almost gently out of it's hole. His voice was barely a murmur as he brushed his lips against her ear once more "There's more then one way to be a nice girl, sweetheart, which way did you choose?"

She sobbed, hoping he would let her go if she answered him properly "Yours Daddy, I've always been your good girl"

She felt his lips curl against her skin "Always…?"

She let out a silent sigh "Always Daddy, always yours" She almost nuzzled his cheek in relief, his voice was calmer now, maybe he wouldn't hurt her anymore. If only she would be so lucky.

The almost regretful sigh against her neck alerted her to her mistake "But sweetie, you've already been a bad girl…why did you have to go and lie like that? Always is a harsh word sweetling… never use it in vain"

Her breath hitched at his words, stupid Rowan stupid, lieing is wrong! Oh God…why did she have to open her stupid mouth.

"I'm so sorry, but I'm your father, I have to teach you right from wrong…and lying to me is never a good thing" She turned her head to the side, away from him, her eyes tearing up as she bit her lip, she should be happy, he'd given her another chance, she'd been bad. But God, why did her chest feel so tight, why couldn't it just all go away?

He slowly lifted himself up so that his hand had free range, she almost lifted an eyebrow in irony, he'd hadn't even considered forgiving her, he'd undone her zip while he'd been lying above her. A single tear rolled down her still red cheek as she felt his fingers on the straps of her vest top, why couldn't she have been born a good girl?

"Now I'm going to make sure you never even think such bad things again, you'll learn soon enough, I'll make sure of it" With those last words he yanked down the straps, she hunched inwards, trying to make it impossible for the straps to go any lower down, it didn't help.

His fingers dug hard into her skin as he yanked again at the straps until the front of her top was also pulled down, revealing her white, simple lace bra to his eyes. He almost smiled "Well, at least it's still white" There was almost a tinge of relief in his voice, a slight softening to him…she took the chance.

Bucking up she tilted side ways, slamming her hip bone into him, he gave a small yell before he lifted himself on hands and knees. Her eyes lit up, he'd let go of her hands! Already asking for forgiveness in her mind she slammed her hands up, flat against his face, pushing him back with all the force of her small frame, she couldn't let him do this, it was wrong, there had to be other ways.

She never saw the chair, she'd forgotten it in all the chaos, but the sharp reminder slammed into her as she saw his eyes widen as the back of his head slammed against the wooden seat edge, a loud crack almost thundering through her ears.

He flopped down almost instantly, the force of the collision giving his eyes a blank look, even as his breathing turned to a ragged pant.

"D-Daddy?" She slammed her hand against her mouth, n-no. "D-Daddy, oh please, I'm so sorry, I d-didn't mean it!" A low keening sound tore from her throat, oh he was going to be so mad at her, he'd kill her! He would! He'd lock her in her room for a week without food, he'd done it before!

She looked around frantically, everyone would know! They'd know she'd hurt her Dad, they'd know she'd been a bad girl, oh he would be so ashamed, so angry at her. She felt her breathing hitch again, tears blinding her sight just as she locked on her one freedom.

The back door.

S-she'd call an ambulance, yes, she'd tell them there'd been an accident, he-he'd slipped on something. Then she'd leave, yes yes, it could work, he'd no longer have her around a-and she wouldn't have to face them, the glaring eyes, the accusing looks.

She nodded, running to the phone in the living room, she had to do this while he was out, maybe he'd believe the story she told the hospital, h-he looked like he had a concussion anyway!

She listened to the ring tone, twisting the cord around her finger.

"Good evening, which would you like to be forwarded to, the police station, the fire service or the ambulance service?" The voice, airy and light set her on edge instantly.

"A-ambulance service please"

"Right away miss" The voice never changed, it stayed the same, like a robot even as she fidgeted from one foot to the other, throwing glances back into the kitchen as for an agonising minute she listened to the buzz on the other end of the phone as she was connected.

"Hospital ambulance service" She could have sobbed in relief.

"T-there's been an accident, m-my dad slipped, he hit his head and I think he's concussed o-or something, I-I-I heard a crack…he hit his head again-against the chair"

"Alright honey, just take a deep breath, where are you calling from?"

She recited her address easily "32 B-Baker's Way, by Cords Street"

"Alright, we have an ambulance less then 2 minutes away, just stay-hello! Miss!..."

She let the phone drop, 2 minutes! Oh God, they'd see her!

In her frantic movements she brushed against the door and felt a belt loop catch the door handle and her trousers slipped down a few more inches, she felt her cheeks redden as she shakily did up her zip and button. What must she look like! Adjusting her vest top so that her bra was once more covered she ran again, through the kitchen, not caring about shoes as she passed her father, hearing him groan as he began to come to. But she didn't stop.

She could never stop.

She flung open the door in a flurry, not caring when she heard the corner of her ruined blouse rip as it caught on the half finished fencing around the pond as she ran down the garden, to the back gate which led to the forest. She could stay there for a while, then hitch a ride to another town…away from here.

She had just opened the back gate when she heard the siren of the ambulance, no, no, no, no! Go away! You can't find me, you can't! She didn't bother shutting the gate, she just ran, never once looking forward, she was too scared, her gaze continuously going behind her, expecting someone from the ambulance to be right behind her, a look of accusation upon their face…but she would never see them, she never even saw the dip, with the stone resting innocently in it. She never saw what tripped her, what sent her crashing down into the grass covered floor, never saw what happened after her head hit the ground.


	2. A Good Girl

**Chapter 1 is here, finally. Sorry for the wait but as I said before I have no set update times, it just depends when I can write a good piece of LOTR fan fiction, which unfortunately, isn't every single day. Also, the dreaded exams are showing there evil little faces once more.**

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own Lord of the Rings, the ideas behind it, the places or characters or plot of LOTR. This story is purely for recreational purposes.

A/N "words" in italic are Elvish, for the main sections they will be written in English not Elvish for obvious reasons.

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**Warning:** Obscene language, scenes of death, attempted sexual situation, graphic images of an unpleasant nature.

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**Holding my Soul**

**Chapter One**

**"A good girl"**

Headaches, even the smallest of headaches, is an extremely annoying thing but when it feels like your very skull is about to explode from the pain, it's a bloody nightmare.

She didn't move at first, she lay still on the ground, tremors of pain wracking her body even though she kept still, she didn't want to move. If she moved, she'd prove that she was awake, and that the pain was real and that what she had done was real. That she'd been the bad girl her father had tried to keep her from being. She'd hurt him, biting back a sob she let a single tear fall. Her own father, and she'd hurt, with her own hands…then she'd run like a coward, like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Gasping softly she rolled slowly onto her back, she didn't want to be a coward, even if she was one, she'd rather try and hide it, try and pretend to be the person her father had tried to make her become. She began to move then, to try and work off the pain, with a small grunt she managed to move her left arm to help support herself, though for some reason her right arm felt like a deadweight, wincing at her weakness she realised she must have been lying on it funny, moving it would help.

Oh hell, oh fucking hell no. With a strangled cry of pain she let out a single sob and curled up into a tight ball. Her arm, oh God her arm. Biting her lip against the pain she managed to open her eyes but dared not look down at where she clutched her right arm. It hurt. She felt her lip split against her teeth, the, by now, familiar feel of blood trickled down her chin as she tried to still herself, tried to make the sharp stabbing pains in her arm go away.

"Just bloody fantastic" She sobbed "I-I'm in the middle of a forest and my sodding arms broken" She was surprised the police hadn't found her yet, taken her away for what she'd done.

She was so pathetic. Whining and whimpering like a little puppy when the police were after her. But that made her pathetic anyway, she was running away, bad girls ran away from the police, so she was bad, and she had so hoped that for once in her life she could be good. Be what her father wanted her to be.

Never good enough for him, she never had been, but if he found her before the police did. She whimpered, he'd kill her, after all those threats, those grey eyes glaring at her, he would, he would kill her and be done with it. A few more tears fell down her face as she cried, not caring that the harsh sobs hurt her already raw throat, or that she must have looked awful, nose running and red, eyes red and puffy. Not that it mattered, she was in the middle of a forest, no one was around.

Which meant that this would be the only time to get away for good, but she didn't want to move. The pain in her arm seemed to paralyze her; she just wanted to lye there and let the world pass her by. It was no use though, if anything she had to try and splint her arm, she'd seen it done enough times on the TV, if she didn't she might never use it again. She was already worthless, having a dead arm on top of that, no; she didn't even want to consider it. She would make herself worth something, a good girl, and that started with not giving up. Her father would be ashamed of her if he could have seen her, lying there, wanting to just lye there and never leave.

He was her father, she wouldn't disappoint him again.

With a strangled cry she moved her arm far enough away from her body so that she could get up without banging it against her protesting body, not that it did much good. It felt like she was burning up, the shooting pains running through her shoulder, up her neck to her pounding head. Why did it hurt so much? Was she in hell? Was that what she felt? The fires of hell burning away her skin, torturing her for her sins, for not being good enough? Was that what she felt?

If it was, she couldn't complain, she deserved every last lick of those flames against her skin. She deserved to be punished, but it still hurt so much.

Biting her lip she fell onto her knees, one hand supported the top half of her body, preventing her face from crashing into the compact earth beneath her. This was ridiculous, she had a broken arm, but her legs weren't broken.

"Just get up you stupid girl, get up!" It didn't help, her legs still felt weak, like they wouldn't support her body. But unfortunately for her legs, she could be as stubborn as the best of them. With another groan she pushed herself up onto her feet and staggered backwards as the world tilted around her, colours bursting from her eyelids before she felt her back collide sharply with a large tree, jolting her, and the feeling of nausea rose inside her until with another whimper, she bent over almost double, feeling the acidic waste burning her throat before she gagged and threw up on the forest floor, a small line of vomit trickling down her chin.

She blinked rapidly, her eyes burning from her retching before she managed to stand straight again, leaning heavily against the tree behind her as with her left arm, she wiped away the disgusting substance from her chin, not caring that some had stained the very top of her shirt which covered her slightly torn vest top.

Resting against the tree, her shirt caught on the rough bark and she felt the harsh pain of the rough surface rubbing against her poorly protected back, belatedly a small verbal acceptance of her pain passed her lips as her throat burned "Ouch…" She just wanted to sleep, everywhere hurt, a pain ripping through her. But she had to move, now or she would just fall back down again and curl up tight, protected from the world around her.

So with a small push she stumbled away from the tree and started a slow limping walk, hopefully away from her house, though she wasn't exactly 100 percentsure which way she was headed.

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She didn't know how long she had been walking when she had seen them, vile, demonic looking creatures in a clearing not far from where she hid. They were horrible, skin so blackened it looked like they had been burnt to a crisp in an industrial oven, and even from where she stood she could smell them, decay and rotting flesh, the smell seem to wind itself around everything, long, sickly fingers touching everything in the vicinity. 

Trying not to gag, Rowan settled herself slowly down into a crouch, leaning against a young sapling while she hid behind a number of what looked to be bramble bushes. Resting her arm against her thigh she tried not to make a sound…she didn't want those things to find her, she didn't want them to get there filthy paws on…oh god.

She felt her stomach roll in on itself and tried hard not to let her gag reflex overcome her, the breeze had brushed the bushes ahead of her gently to one side, to finally reveal what they had been so interested in that had been hidden from her view. She whimpered slightly as she saw the small forms of a doe, and what looked like a young fawn, slowly being ripped to pieces.

In morbid fascination she watched as their hands gripped at the torn flesh on the sides of the animals, grabbing it and ruthlessly pulling, not using any sort of knife, they just…ripped it. She finally screwed her eyes shut, trying to forget the image of their blood stained teeth even as it replayed beneath her eyelids, burned into her memory permanently.

The image was so vivid in her mind that she felt it almost push her away, warning her to leave before that became her own fate. The picture of the doe and the fawn changed in her mind, to a picture of her own body, mangled and being torn apart by hand and tooth alike. She swayed and with an alarmed whimper fell backwards onto the forest floor, twigs snapping beneath her weight as she gave a small cry as sharp rocks and stones duck into her back and shoulder, jarring her broken arm.

It was all they needed, within seconds every single pair of red eyes was turned her way, silence echoing through the forest.

Oh shit…

With a small yelp she rolled onto her side and with her left arm managed to push herself up unsteadily, the sounds of heavy and harsh growling from behind her thrumming through her head, oh god.

With a small sob she ran away from the hellish creatures behind her, right arm cradled against her body as best as possible, repeatedly banging against her chest, searing jolts of pain ran through her, causing her to stumble as her legs almost gave out beneath her, unable to cope with the attack on their nerves.

"No, no, no, don't stop, oh god don't stop Rowan, don't you dare…"Egging herself on she launched herself back into a run, feeling the air behind her becoming heavier as they began to close in on her, she had no way to escape, there were too many, and they were just too fast.

She swerved as a large tree came into her path, heading left she managed a stumbling jump over a small stream, her heels splashing at the edge of the water, cold droplets clinging to her jeans as she ran, the cold giving her the extra push she needed as she managed to push herself up a small incline before her.

Her breathing was harsh even to her own ears, but it didn't stop her hearing the leering tone as those…things shouted at her, they spoke strangely, a guttural language which sent shivers of pure terror down her spine, she didn't have to know the language to know what they would do to her if they caught her.

And unlike her father, she wouldn't be able to fight off those things if they caught her.

As she felt her legs quiver beneath her once more, her body slowly giving out under the pain her body was in, she almost begged to whatever gods existed for them to just kill her and eat her, at least she would be dead, a better ending to this small, almost pointless chase then being raped.

The sharp incline she was running up suddenly stopped, a steep downwards slope before her, the sudden change caught her off guard, and as her foot met thin air she fell forward, even as she heard a ghoulish cry from behind her.

The air rushed past her and with a loud cry she fell, on her broken arm. Feeling the bones grind together beneath her skin, black blooms burst in front of her eyes, like roses of corruption being offered to her by the devil, a passing gift before those hellish creatures finally caught her.

But even as she lay there, her arm aflame with pain, they never came. There was no pounding of foot on earth, no more of their guttural cries, absolute silence.

That's when she heard it.

The faint breaking of a twig, a light snap noise which reached her ears…an almost delicate sound in itself. She wasn't alone, but it wasn't those creatures this time, it was something else.

She slowly rolled onto her back, once again biting her lip against the pain, the fresh trickle of blood staining her chin, but she managed to raise herself up onto her knees, never once seeing what shared this small area of the forest with her. But she could see what they had done, and why she no longer could hear the grunts of those creatures that had been so close to catching her.

They lay there, no more than a few feet away, eyes glazed over in death, bodies like pincushions, riddled with arrows which seemed to gleam in the sunlight. Arrows…? Why the hell would someone be using arrows?

Strange question as it was in her current situation, it stood out clear in her mind, an oddity that didn't seem to compute. What worried her even more, was that the men, if that was what they were, which were within her eyesight now that she had turned around, looked like wingless angels, only problem was…angels, as far as she was concerned, didn't exist.

And even if they did, she wouldn't have imagined them pointing very sharp and deadly looking arrows her way.

Was she that cursed? Honestly? Was everyone out to make her life more of a living hell then it already was?

Never taking her eyes from the sharp points she tried to shuffle away, trying not to let them see her intentions, but it was obvious they knew.

_"Vedui', mankoi naa lle sinome?"_ The person...being...man, as it were, at the front of the group spoke, his voice like music, light and airy…and utterly

terrifying.

With a whimper she scuttled back, in a lopsided crab crawl with one arm before managing to get to her feet unsteadily, she froze, as did the people before her, arrows still pointed at her but their eyes held a curiosity in them, as if surprised that she was so scared of them…was she supposed to know who they were? Was she missing something in this huge mess that she called her life?

It was when she saw the sudden glint of a sword when one of them began towards her that she realised in a flash that she didn't give a flying fuck, he had a bloody sword!

With eyes wide she stumbled up, her hands clawing at the grassy slope, not caring that they were right behind her, they had swords! You chopped people's heads off with those things!

Without a glance back she ran over the edge of the mound and started back down again, hearing the raised voices behind her too late, as, within seconds of her attempted escape two blurred figures fell from the trees around her to stand before her.

She knew a collision was close to inevitable, but she tried anyway, with an attempted sharp turn she tried to avoid their glaring grey eyes, but it was useless. She stumbled up against on of them only to feel hands grasping at her arms, grips tightening to hold her still, not knowing of her broken arm.

"Get off!" It hurt, it hurt so badly that she lost all sense, mind blanked with red in her rage she twisted, legs kicking out as she tried to release the grip on her right arm, it hurt so badly.

She sobbed as she felt a second hand upon her right arm and felt like the ground was about to give way beneath her, the pain so great that black spots appeared amongst the red, but not before she managed to wrench her arm up enough to claw almost eagerly at the flesh her fingernails came into contact with. They weren't about to get out of this unscathed!

_"Daro!"_ She heard the word, didn't understand it, didn't want to. They were hurting her, grabbing hands on her, like him…had he sent them!

"_DARO!"_Her struggles ended abruptly, waves of pain from her arm paralyzed her even as she felt the tip of an arrow against her neck, it was over. They'd won.

_"__Tula__"_ The hand upon her right arm fell away, and she could breathe again, feeling coming back to her body bit by bit before she felt herself being dragged away, fingers digging into her left arm. The pain was less though, she wouldn't complain.

She just hoped they would be merciful…

* * *

­­They had let go of her a little while ago, an hour, maybe even two since they had let go of their fierce grip on her arm. She was flanked with guards though, two stoic looking blond…men…angels? Stood one on each side, almost like bodyguards, apart from the suspicious looks they sent her way. 

It was obvious she confused them, didn't scare them, but for some reason she was causing suspicion to rise, and she had no clue why. It was a public forest, many people even camped out there, where could these people be taking her, what had those things been before?

Could she really be in hell?

Had she died? Was she to live in torment for the rest of eternity?

Funny, it should have bothered her more. But the tiredness that now made up her entire existence was overwhelming, the monotonous step after step after step as she followed these people was lulling her into a deceptively sweet dream. She just didn't care…it hurt, her arm, her back, her feet, everywhere. They didn't care either, not about her injuries anyway, but she had hurt one of them, she could see the red raw scratches lining his face, they cared about that, she was sure.

With a sudden yelp of surprise she felt herself falling, her foot stuck…drawn from her thoughts as she felt the familiar flip flop of her stomach as she saw the ground coming up to greet her she didn't notice the arms wrapping themselves around her waist, keeping her from further injury.

"No!" She felt his arms tighten, like his had…no, no "Let go!" Hands grabbing, pulling…she hated it! She did! She wouldn't let them!

She started struggling, even as she was set right once more on her two feet. She didn't notice, didn't even realise. They wouldn't let her go, she just wanted to be let go.

_"ai'calenen, uuma dela"_ The words were soft, flowing like a stream over a bed of rocks, elegant, peaceful, and with no intent to harm.

She heard the words, didn't understand them, but she felt her body slow, subconsciously knowing that if he had meant to hurt her, he would not sooth her. Though which he it was of the group, she did not know.

The arms left her waist, still flanked by the two guards she trembled slightly. Not knowing why her body had betrayed her like that. Why at such few words had she stopped struggling.

She did not have time to ponder though as she heard voices raised once more, and as she looked around, she realised with something akin to a wondrous horror that they were making camp. And she would spend the night amongst them…alone.

* * *

The young woman-child sat slightly away, in the shadows of the surrounding trees. It was obvious she was trying to hide from them, it didn't surprise him much though. The look in her eyes when they had found her had been that of a doe caught in the net of the hunter. 

And for all the famed hospitality of the elves, it had been very small in showing.

Sighing, Glorfindel broke of another small bit of his lembas bread, pondering the strangely clothed woman-child in their midst. She was obviously injured, but he had decided to listen to his companions then his healers heart on this matter, although hurt, they did not know who she was, so they would be wary. Though, if he was completely honest with himself, he found those accusations exceptionally thin, as he knew the twin sons of Elrond did.

There was never a worthy cause when a female was to be left injured and so frightened.

Barbaric…

_"Glorfindel, do you think our guest would benefit from some lembas bread?" _Looking over he saw one of the twins before him, his face set in grim determination. He knew the twins had trouble around victims of Orcs, memories of their mother often clouded their minds.

_"I think it would help, she looks like she is on her last legs, she won't last another day of travel"_ Elladan, if he was guessing correctly, hadn't needed to ask his permission, but he understood that he did not want to be alone in this. Out of the 9 elves before them, only himself and the twins, as far as he knew, truly believed that she was purely a victim, one strange to this land yes, but a victim all the same.

_"Enheruion, may I borrow your healing pack? Her lip is split and I am worried about her arm, it seems to pain her greatly"_

The healer of the group, Enheruion kept a neutral stance to their situation, knowing the benefits of being wary and of helping her. But he was not without heart.

_"You may, but be careful"_

Taking his advice, Elladan went to take the small pack when another spoke out.

_"Leave her, the more tired she is the less chance of her attacking" _No one had to look to see who spoke, Theraleth, friend of Amras spoke his mind when and how he wanted to.

_"And how much of a chance would she had against nine elves? Think Theraleth, she is injured and alone, she can harm none of us"_

_"None of us!"_ With a scolding glare he pointed a finger at the long scratch marks down Amras' face _"She was restrained yet she managed to hurt Amras, now she sits there, unbound…'tis truly a folly"_

_"Yet we shall act no better than Orcs in this matter and leave her in pain!"_

For all of his level headedness, Elladan was known for his occasional outbursts.

_"You would dare compare us to-"_

_"SILENCE!"_

The entire clearing stilled, no sound apart from the slight whimper of fear from the shadows.

_"You will not talk to a son of Elrond in such a manner Theraleth, remember that! And for her so called attack on Amras, it's a scratch, she was scared. And at this moment I would compare us more to Orcs than elves"_ Glorfindel ignored the slight protests. _"Now, Elladan.__ Go and give her some lembas bread and take care of any obvious cuts, but do not stay long. It is obvious we scare her, and this arguing cannot be making it any easier."_

_"But what if she led the Orcs to this forest, she may not be as alone as you say…"_ Turning, he saw Amras sitting on the ground, leaning against one of the trees, his face showing him deep in thought. _"For all that Theraleth would think to look after me, I am not against her, but I am wary, as should everyone here be"_ He paused _"But then again, that does not mean that we have to be unkind"_

Theraleth sat there stunned even as Glorfindel watched his disbelieving face. Sighing Glorfindel took the lembas Elladan has procured along with the small pack and began his way towards the cowering figure. _"__For one so tired, for her to create such fear of approach, she must indeed be frightful Theraleth."_

No one stopped him as he went over to her small from, curled up against the nook of a large root. Carefully, so as not to alarm her, he knelt down by her side. _"Young one, are you hungry?"_

Large green eyes stared up at him through the mass of hair surrounding her face, but she did not reply, instead, the look of confusion on her face told him what he should have known. She did not know Elvish.

Sighing at himself he spoke to her again, trying to remember as much westron as possible.

"…hungry?" It had been many years since he had spoken westron and it showed in how little he could talk to her.

But it was in vain, she did not move, not a sound escaped her, and neither did the confusion leave her eyes. If she did not know westron, where had she come from?

He did not have the answer, and knew his presence was making her uncomfortable. With another sigh he quickly rummaged through the small pack until he found the small cloth, formerly steeped in soothing, numbing herbs and lifted it up to her face, were her split lip was slowly healing, although he could still see the glint of fresh blood upon her chin.

_"Be calm young one, I am just trying to help" _His voice soothing, although he knew his words made no sense to her, he reached up with the cloth, slowly, ever so slowly, trying not to scare her.

Eventually she realised his intention and stopped backing away, letting him dab her chin and lib with the cloth, her eyes never leaving his face as he did so.

It wasn't long before her lip began to heal properly under the ministrations of Elvish herbs and with one last concerned look at her hunched up form Glorfindel gently took her hand and put a small piece of lembas into her small palm, she nodded at him slightly in understanding. He hid a small smile, so she had been watching them then…he had suspected as such.

As he stood to once again join the others near the small fire he turned back, and realised that she had been given no cover for the night. Trying hard to keep the disapproval from his features he unclasped his cloak and gently laid it over her, grabbing the edge with one hand she pulled it up around her chin and gave him a small, tentative smile.

But he could still see the fear so plainly in her eyes that his heart actually hurt.

Orcs were truly vile creatures.

* * *

She had watched them as she nibbled at the food she had been given. Their voices were low, soothing and luckily, no longer directed at her. 

She'd heard their argument earlier, the raised voices, the gestures…the looks. She remembered he had used to do that, she remembered the anger in his voice, like she'd heard from them. Well, one of them at least.

She'd been more then surprised, and a little scared when one of them had come over. She'd seen him earlier, he had been near the front of the group, talking to what looked like twins. He seemed nice enough, he'd been concerned, maybe he knew what was going to happen, maybe he didn't want it to happen. His concern…she didn't deserve it, she didn't want it either. It just made her wonder what was in store for her, but he'd given her his…cloak thing, at least he was nicer then the others, they hadn't come near her since they had set her down by the tree, almost as if knowing she couldn't escape.

Such arrogance should have irritated her, but it didn't. She'd learnt to get used to it, even expect it, it was normal, to her at least.

As she nibbled away, avoiding her still slightly sore lip, her eyelids slowly started to fall as the enchanting voices slowly but surely lulled her into a sleep she did not want…

_…The room was white…sterile, silent. She felt the harsh, cold metal beneath her, a white seat, in a white room, by a white desk…deathly cold. She felt isolated…different, her clothes were dark, black, brown, stark against the nothingness of the room she was boxed into._

_Her hands were moving, blue-black bruises marred her wrists and arms even as she clutched the white pen within her trembling fingers…writing on white paper, crisp, orderly…like he had always wanted._

_The ink was black though, staining the paper, tainting it, ruining it. Blotches of black were scattered amongst the words…words of pain, words of what hehad done to her…like a confession._

_No!_

_Never, she could never tell, how dare she write such things. She had no right…no right…_

_He would see! She couldn't let him...he could never know!_

_She dropped the pen, a clang on the floor, vibrating, echoing throughout the room…it hurt her ears, her eyes blurred…but she could never let them see, it had to be destroyed, it had to be!_

_Her hands, fumbling, clumsy, ripped the tainted paper, ripped it until it fell like snowflakes onto the floor…but when the first flake fell…_

_She stumbled from her chair, gagging, feeling sick as waves of pain crippled her…punishment…her knew, he'd seen it, she'd been too late._

_She deserved it…_

_But as she looked up, she heard footsteps…but it wasn't him…it was the other one…the one whose eyes glazed over in pain, the one who took every blow they could for her…her only friend._

_She felt sick, he stood before her, one eye swollen shut, lip bleeding, a circle of bruises around his neck…clothes ragged, dirty and torn…he was in pain._

_Another noise soon joined them…a low keening, of pain, of torment…of guilt._

_She'd left him…alone…no…_

"NO!"

Her eyes opened in a sudden jerk as she started coughing harshly, her body not used to the sudden movement as she tried to get up, as if trying to escape the dream…

She couldn't move though, instead as she began to calm down she felt eyes on her, and looked up into the pair of golden eyes which had looked at her last night with such concern.

She screamed.

Loudly, in shock and terror as their noses almost touched….too close, he was too close!

"N-no, let go…go away!"

Why did he have to be so close, why-

_"Daro…"_ His voice was soft, quiet, gentle…like someone would talk to an injured animal…

_"Mani naa ta?"_

His hand slipped away from her arm…and almost without realisation she gripped her arm, trying to rid herself of the pain…not noticing it was her right arm she now held.

With a yelp of pain she hugged it close to her body, hunching over it even as her back screamed at her not to bend…not to move at all.

_"Mani naa ta!"_He watched her hunch over her arm, her face a tight grimace of pain.

She ignored him, he could see her entire being focused on the pain that seemed to radiate from her arm…he felt guilty as he realised that the only way for that much pain to occur…her arm was broken…and Amras had been the one to grab that arm…no wonder she had fought like a wildcat. And he had not realised.

_"Enheruion! Come here!"_ He knelt at her side, gently trying to coax her to let him see her arm, he must have hurt her when he had grabbed it.

_"Glorfindel, what is it?" _Enheruion came quickly, his healing pack in one hand, knowing that his skills would be needed. His blue eyes immediately scanned the woman-child's form for any injury before his gaze locked onto her arm.

_"Can you try and get her to let go of her arm…she is making it worse"_ He knew why Enheruion asked him, for he had been the only one of them to approach her in kindness, she would most likely trust him more.

He nodded and once again moved his hand forward, brushing it lightly as he tried once more to get her to give him his arm…she just flinched away, frightened and in pain.

_"We will have to take her arm either way…we can apologise later…she needs her arm looked at, the pain she feels…it is a bad break" _Glorfindel nodded, realising as such through his healer eyes. He did not want to do this when she was already so frightened of them. But if she would not respond, her arm, and pain would only get worse.

Murmuring a small apology he gripped her shoulder and with a quick, but gentle pull he managed to bring her arm away from her body and held it gently while Enheruion quickly put her arm into a splint…she struggled, but compared to elven strength it was of little consequence…but her cries of fear and pain were not.

She struggled against them, tears running down her face as she cried out words they couldn't understand, yet did. She wanted them to stop…she was scared and in pain.

And they were not making it any easier.

* * *

She kept away from them, after that incident that morning all she wanted to do was run…but she couldn't 

Wherever she was being taken, they were making sure she went, and it scared her…a lot. She had 3 'guards' the one she had heard repeatedly called Glorfindig, or something like that and the twins of the group…they watched her intently…waiting for her to run?

She wasn't that stupid.

They were stronger then she'd thought…when they'd taken her arm earlier she hadn't been able to budge his grip even a bit.

It was hopeless…or it was a hallucination. She believed that one more, she probably hit her head too hard…that was it, it had to be. Why else would she be surrounded by 'angels' with pointed ears and swords…maybe she'd finally gone crazy…

She wouldn't be surprised…maybe she wasn't ready to go back…maybe life was finally trying to help her out…keeping her locked away from him, away from his ways…his rules…his everything.

But then again, if it was helping her out…would it hurt so much?

Maybe she would never get to answer that question though…life was chaotic and unpredictable…which would explain the pointy eared 'angel' running towards Glorfindig person…he didn't look happy…that made her kind of sad. No one should be unhappy…well, not good people anyway…and she was sure these people she had created were nice really…maybe they were trying to hide her…from him, maybe that was why they were so adamant…

They shouldn't be unhappy though…not like her…only bad girls were unhappy…and rightly so…

_"Glorfindel, can you hear it? Orcs from the east"_ Nodding his head at Theraleth's words Glorfindel too looked to the east as he held a hand up to stop the group.

_"They are too close to Imladris…call together any and all scouts from the area, I will hide the woman-child, they must get no closer to the gates of Imladris"_

He was obeyed immediately, the twin sons of Elrond moved away from himself and the woman-child t assist Theraleth in bringing in the scouts while he backtracked towards a series of large, overgrown bushes, hoping to hide the young woman from sight.

She followed him silently, almost as if in a daze…shock maybe? He hoped not, shock could be a very deadly thing, it slowed down the mind and senses to the outside world, but hopefully, she would not have to deal with what the outside world would deal her just yet…from her appearance it looked like it had given her more then enough.

She looked back now and again, but not much…he was glad, hopefully she would not see what would happen next.

As he moved though, he heard a sound he wished he had not…Orcs…from the west.

They were being surrounded.

* * *

She heard it not long after he had started dragging her away…the guttural grunts…it was the creatures…the nightmares…he was taking her to them! 

The noises were getting closer…yet he still moved forward…no! why…why would he…no! She wouldn't let him!

She struggled, locked her knees so that she would walk no further on her own two feet…he couldn't do this to her! He couldn't…not those things. She sobbed, anything but that…anything.

She whimpered, a pathetic whine from the back of her throat…instinct…trying to tell any around her of her fear…her terror.

But he didn't listen…he dragged her onwards, her legs catching on the harsh ground forcing her to move forward…he wasn't stopping…why wasn't he stopping!

"Stop…please, don't take me to them…please, I'll do anything, anything!" Her voice was a whine, begging him to stop…promising him anything…pathetic…that's what she was, absolutely pathetic.

But she would never know if it was that very begging which saved her life.

He stopped, still, before he turned her to face him and pointed in the direction of the Orcs before miming cutting a throat…harsh movements…in anger…fear? Either way, she didn't understand, was he going to give her to them…or kill them?

Why couldn't she understand him!

But in that next moment she didn't care as he pushed her down into a large set of bushes and wrapped his cloak thing tight around her and pushed her down to the ground…before he left her.

He'd left her! Alone…with those things coming closer…oh god…

…oh god help her.

* * *

When she'd first heard the noises, metal clashing against metal, cries of anger, pain and fear. She hidden beneath the cloak and cried, not wanting to see what was causing those sounds that would haunt her for many nights to come. 

But it was inevitable, inevitable that she would find out…she would see…and that he would find her.

He was there…she could hear him…the whispering noise in the back of her head…behind her, beside her, in front…above and below…she could hear him.

_You know what is going on…don't deny it…you hear the death…yet you hide…weak foolish little girl…letting them die…can't you see…they were trying to help you…save you…you! Pathetic…worthless…quivering like a child in the bushes…abandoning them…_

No, no she hadn't! He'd hid her himself…he didn't want her in the fight! What use would she be anyway!

_What use indeed…when you're hiding like a coward in the bushes…safe beneath the cloak he gave you…_

Shut up! SHut up! SHUt up! SHUT UP!

She cried out…she wasn't pathetic! She wasn't a bloody coward!

She'd prove him wrong…if it was the last thing she did. She'd show him…she wouldn't disappoint him…not again.

She got up, keeping her splinted arm close to her chest…she didn't know what she'd do, but she'd do something, she wasn't a coward, she wouldn't let him believe that.

…But what exactly can a 17 year old girl do in a fight? With swords and arrows, creatures from nightmares and from dreams…what can she do…? Except nothing…

But too late did she realise this…and before she could duck back down and hide once more…those red eyes were on her again, fixed onto her form before those twisted black lips smirked, a parody of a smile, before the familiar pounding steps approached her.

She blanched as it ran closer and closer, surrounded by death and battle…it had to be a nightmare…hell even! This couldn't be real…

She ran, turned on her heal and ran through the bushes which had hid her loyally, cloak catching on the small thorns before ripping it off completely…she didn't care though, she just knew that, nightmare/hell or not, if that thing caught her, she would beg for a death that it would not give.

But, injured as she was, her body protested and slowed down despite her cries not to.

It caught her, hands grabbing at her violently, shoving her to the ground beside a group of trees, face first, arms beneath her…she felt her right arm crack again, screamed in pain…it didn't care.

Oh god, she'd never get away.

It grabbed her shoulders, turning her over onto her back before straddling her…Its hand grabbing her breasts, fondling, pinching, twisting, it hurt! She tried to roll to her side but its legs stopped her, she screamed, begged it to stop, whimpered…but it didn't. It just grinned at her before starting to yank her vest top down…

…just like he had tried to.

She jerked her knees up hard, trying to catch it between the legs…stunned briefly at the pain she had inflicted she tried to scuttle away. But she screamed again as it pulled her hair hard, forcing her back into its grasp, before with one final laugh it pushed her head back as it ravaged her mouth, bruising lips pushing down on hers, tongue running along her lips…

She screamed, a muffled squeal to the rest of the world as she pushed with her hand as hard as she could…it didn't work…one hand holding her head still while the other grabbed at her chest again…she sobbed…why her? What had she done?

Had she been a bad girl? Done something wrong? Not done something!

She just wanted it to stop!

It didn't, shoving her fully down on the ground again, it fully straddled her, grinding against her, pain and fear seemed to make up her entire existence…oh god…somebody, please! She just wanted some help…someone, anyone…

She felt its hand pull her vest top below her bra…showing it off to the world before its grasping hands enclosed them once more…sobbing she finally managed to break his hold on her lips, wrenching her head to the side for breath…to scream, to cry, to beg…anything.

She tried to scream, it wouldn't let her. With a harsh slap she whimpered as it once more began to ravage her already bruised and pained lips…not for long though, just as it reached to rip her bra from her, it tensed up, still and then slowly but surely, slumped over her, eyes glazed over in death stared at her own…

She panicked, tried to push it off, breath coming in gasps, she wanted it off, off, away from her…heavy, too heavy…need to get away…move, leave…now!

"G-get it off, please I-I…off! Get if off!" Sobbing, her hysterical cries became more prominent as the battle began to fade…but she managed to push it off, slowly but surely and her mind closed in on itself…too much, too soon.

She needed time…rest…away from everything…she needed help…

* * *

It was Elladan, Elrohir and Theraleth who found her, curled up tight into a ball, clothing ripped, dead Orc by her side as she whimpered, breathless gasps escaping blue-black lips… 

Glaring down at the dead body Elrohir went to the young woman's side…a child really, remembering his mother, curled up tight in her bed so long ago, gasping sobs escaping her shaking form…so much like her…he would save this one.

_"Little one, you must calm down, you need to breath…"_ He knew she wouldn't understand, but maybe, just maybe his voice would calm her…either way, something had to happen, she was so tense, so wound up he felt a very real fear for her within him…too much in any given moment could severely hurt, maybe even kill a mortal…she was so young…it was obvious…though her eyes had told a different story.

_"What is she saying?"_ Barely looking up, Elrohir heard the confusion in Theraleth's voice…he heard it to, a small, quiet muttering, repeated over and over again…it made no sense to him.

_"Elladan, get Glorfindel and Enheruion…she needs better skilled healers then us…quickly!"_ The sound of footfalls greeted his ears as his brother went to find the two in question even as Theraleth crouched down beside himself and the woman-child.

_"It sounds something like _I'll ve_…something or other, I cannot make it out"_

He leant down closer, ear as close as he dared to her moving lips where he could finally make it the foreign words coming from her dazed and injured form.

_"If I am not mistaken, she says something like _I'll be a good girl_…" _Frowning Elrohir pushed himself back up before looking towards an equally frowning Theraleth.

_"What does that mean?"_

**Thank you to all the reviewers:**

Miriellar, So I am, Neenuvar

**Read and review!**

**Mademoiselle Morte**


	3. Familiarity

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Lord of the Rings, the ideas behind it, the places or characters or plot of LOTR. This story is purely for recreational purposes.

* * *

I have come back from the dead to give you this chapter…I am SO sorry about this . urgh just shoot me now. I'm sorry it took so long but the only excuse I can give is, real life. Simple, its little things all piled together which has made it impossible to get this chapter finished before now. Hopefully you will understand and not kill me…or maim me in anyway.

Not too happy with this chapter overall, some bits just don't flow properly in my mind, but at least its out isn't it? Right?...anybody?

* * *

**Warning:** No real warnings in this one

* * *

**Holding my Soul**

**Chapter Two**

**'Familiarity'**

They had carried the woman-child back to Imladris, luckily, not long after they had began their journey her body had finally given into exhaustion and she fell into unconsciousness.

Theraleth took the job of carrying her unconscious form to Imladris, his form of a silent apology at being so cold and heartless in his reaction to her in her arrival. He still was wary of her, rightly so as she was so strange to this land, but that did not mean he had had to be so ruthless in his thoughts of the young woman.

He would prove that he was not as barbaric as Glorfindel and the others would think of him to be.

She was light enough that it surprised him, most mortal women he had seen in his journeys were of a stockier build, most likely due to their harsh and, to him, completely unnecessary lifestyle. He did not understand the pressure put on mortal women, to be a certain way, to do this, or that in silence…if anything, mortals were far more barbaric then he was supposedly meant to be.

But that was the way of mortals, but not all it seemed. The woman-child he held lightly within his grasp was different, clothing, her entire appearance, it was obvious to him now that she was a foreigner of some kind…from the East?

No…they were aligned with Mordor, and those alongside such a wretched place would be known to the Orcs, if she had been a spy, they would not have harmed her so, making her job as a spy almost impossible with such injuries.

By the time they arrived at the gates of Imladris, Theraleth could still barely feel her weight, and although wary, it worried him.

Hopefully Lord Elrond would be able to help her, hopefully he would be more understanding then he had been as well. Though he had no worries there, although stern, the Lord of Imladris was kind to those who deserved it, cured those who were injured, and healed those who were unable to leave the horrors of the world from their minds.

He would know if she was to be trusted, he would be able to decide the best course of action to take.

As they walked closer to the gates of Imladris the light of the afternoon sun reflected again off of the white cloth holding her broken arm close to her chest, a protective gesture…a broken gesture.

When she had been awake she had curled herself up tightly, to show less skin, to show less skin to be beaten. Although a very rare occurrence amongst the elves, it was not unknown for an elf to beat an elleth, luckily it never carried on for very long, it was a disgusting thing, to harm one outside of battle. But from the way the woman-child acted, it was obvious she had been beaten, and often.

Whether by Orcs or by some other hands he didn't know, none of them did.

But it was obvious.

It always was…

* * *

The gates of Imladris shone bright silver in the sunlight, a welcoming sight that warmed the hearts of the group which slowly passed through its protective barrier, as long as Elrond Halfelven and his kin resided within Imladris and it fell under their rule, Imladris was a safe haven to all who needed it.

Lord Elrond had suffered, indirectly yes, but he had, because of the greed, pain and suffering from the outside world and he wished to protect those who could not protect themselves from it. In a world where there was too little charity and help, he offered it to those who needed it.

Glorfindel had a feeling the woman-child still within Theraleth's grasp would be one of those, although still uncertain, as an extra-ordinary elf himself he saw more then most, he knew more then most. And his eyes, unclouded by suspicion, told him that the mortal amongst them needed them and their help, for what only she could say.

Although if Boromir of Gondor was a human to compare to, she could be too stubborn to accept it. Though it had been in his experience, the males of the mortal race were more stubborn then the women…he hoped.

All around them elves and elleths went on their way, seamstresses, blacksmiths, soldiers, everyone walked on by, sending them friendly greetings and curious glances as they passed, not particularly surprised at the addition to the group. Within the last few weeks many strange creatures had entered into Imladris, including a long considered 'enemy', per say of the elves…dwarves.

Glorfindel himself had nothing against the dwarves, neither did Lord Elrond, but most elves were wary of them, their greed for their metals deep in the ground unnerved them. Dark, confined spaces were alien to the elves, and those differences caused mistrust, something now which could be the undoing of the entirety of Middle-Earth.

_"Nae saian luume' Glorfindel"_ Looking up from his reverie his golden eyes fell upon the two elves which had been in his thoughts most of the day, Elrond and his ever trusted advisor, Erestor.

_"Vedui' Elrond, Erestor"_ Bowing slightly before Lord Elrond, he could not help the small smile that graced his lips, long had it been since he had seen his friends and beloved home. It filled his heart with a joy he had rarely felt within the last few years to come back to an untroubled home.

He had protected it well.

The rest of the group slowly fanned out behind him, the twins rushing forward, the usually grins spread across their faces as they went to greet their Ada after such a long journey. The others respectfully remained silent, letting the small family reunite before they told Lord Elrond of the woman-child they had found.

The wind was a gentle breeze, blowing softly, fingers playing with strands of silken gold hair. Glorfindel could see the toll on his friend of old. His dark brown hair pulled back from his face, the wind almost afraid to let its fingers play with those strangely dark strands, it revealed a face where eyes were too world weary. Small lines, obvious to elven eyes decorated his face, his tiredness like a cloak surrounding him, slowly consuming him.

It pained him to add more to the stress Elrond suffered from, but as Lord of Imladris he had to be informed, if he didn't already know. Though by the way his eyes flickered to the small form of the mortal, it would not have surprised him to know that Elrond knew about the unexpected arrival. Though, through his own means or by another, he did not know.

Slowly Elladan and Elrohir walked away from their Ada, faces solemn once more even as they acknowledged the newly founded fellowship no more then a few feet behind Elrond and Erestor.

Unlike the two elves before them, the fellowship were solely focused on the woman-child. Curiosity and concern shining in the eyes of the hobbits even as suspicion held a hold on the Steward-son of Gondor. The steward-son was one to watch out for, his scheming eyes were not unknown to the elves, but as long as he kept within his bounds, all would be well.

But man was known to strive for more then they were given.

_"Greeting Glorfindel, you bring many surprises with you this day"_ With a small smirk Erestor clasped Glorfindel's arm in the familiar warriors greeting, showing his respect for his fellow elf.

_"Only good ones I hope, my friend"_ With a small smile Glorfindel nodded towards Erestor after releasing his arm to face his now approaching Lord, the small scout party apart from Theraleth disbanding leaving only the four elves, the fellowship and the mysterious woman-child in the small welcoming courtyard.

_"Greetings again Glorfindel, my scouts bring news of an addition to your party, I thought you had given up taking in strays"_ With a small smirk as Elrond reminded his old time friend of earlier, happier times Elrond also clasped his arm in a warriors grasp while Erestor went towards the silent form Theraleth still held.

_"Not an addition as such as…reluctant victim…"_ Raising an eyebrow Elrond looked at Glorfindel with an almost confused expression before finishing his greetings and walking purposefully to where the rest of those who had stayed were now gathered, not surprisingly, around Theraleth.

_"And does this reluctant victim of yours speak a name or homeland perhaps? Her very appearance is foreign even to myself"_ Not bothering to look at his old friend as he spoke, Elrond looked down at the bruised and scratched face of the young mortal woman-child before him laying limp and almost lifeless. Sighing, Elrond wondered exactly what had happened to this woman-child, the scout had told him only what had been known to the others, that they had found her being attacked by a group of Orcs, worrying in itself that the Orcs had gotten so close to the inner borders of Imladris, but worrying still was that she had come in undetected and had been beaten without realisation.

But the wounds she sported, they had not been made by an Orc, any kind of Orc. His elven eyes could see better then those of a human, and he had not the rushed mind of a scouting party, he could see the way the scratched marred her face, and no Orc had fingernails of such a size to create the scratches he could see on her body.

_"She spoke nothing we could understand Elrond, her words were as foreign to us as her appearance is…she also seemed confused at our own words, most likely she understands nothing of what we said, in Elvish or Westron"_

She did not know Westron? Many things Elrond has encountered over the years had confounded him, yet for her not to know Westron, any at all even, was confusing to him, all the peoples of middle-earth knew at least basic Westron, it was the universal language, if it had been an elf he might have understood. For not all elves wished to speak the language, a rough and crude language when compared to Elvish…but she was no Elf.

Brushing a hand lightly over her forehead the waves of fear surrounding her sent a shiver through him, the guilt interlaced with those black feelings did nothing to help, she was hiding something, indeed she was…but what she was hiding, now that was the question.

_"Whether she knows Elvish or Westron shall be answered at a later date it seems…"_ Confused glances were his only reply _"She hides Glorfindel, whether she hides that very something or she is hiding from it? I do not know, but she hides my friend"_

* * *

The room was bright, ivory coloured walls surrounded the multitude of pristine white beds covering the pale marble floor from sight as much as possible. The small tints of gold within the walls, captured by the sunlight, showed whoever saw the very fine gold ivy pattern scaling the immense healing halls, the small sparkle giving an almost fantastical look to the serene and overall peaceful hall.

Out of the many beds, only one held a patient within its gentle grasp, cotton soft sheets covering her slight form even as they showed the small gasping breathes she took even in her sleep.

Around her still form, the large healing hall of Imladris was a buzz with activity. Two attendants stood around a large porcelain bowl, a creamy stiff mixture being mixed together by the two elleths. A robed figure could barely be seen in the entrance way to one of the smaller storage rooms off to one side of the immense hall, the creamy blue silk of his robe gleamed in the sunlight even as his hair set of a golden shine. His robe colour showed his status as a master healer amongst the healers guild of elven kind. The blue of the very sky showed his instinctual link to nature and all its healing abilities.

Yet not even his abilities seemed to be able to help heal the mind of the young woman-child laying so disturbingly still on one of his beds.

He had, along with other attendants, cleaned her wounds and cleansed her scratches of all possible grime which could have infected them. The bruises on her body had been treated with a minted solution to draw out the pain and subdue the swelling, even now a mixture was being made to secure her broken arm safely until it had mended properly.

Yet the body can never fully heal when the mind ails, the powers of the mind were sometimes too astounding to imagine, yet they were there. And a chaotic mind such as hers could do more to harm her body and soul then any injuries she could injure.

Mortals were such strange creatures to him, to most elves. Their lusty, greedy ways were appalling, yet the few true hearted people amongst their race were so few that it did nothing to help all of them, and as their differences could be seen so clearly, they fell as victims to those who did not want to be reminded of what they were not.

If the race of man could have been classed as simply a greedy and vengeful race, Landon, as his name was wont to be, would have gladly washed his hands of all dealings with them.

But it was those few, like Aragorn and maybe even the young girl within his hall, which made his mind waver, made him think that maybe, just maybe there was some good in the race of man, and it gave him hope.

_"Nyvanna, Nienna take the mix to the young child's bedside, it should be set by now"_ The twin elleth nodded in agreement as the large bowl was moved to the small table by the frail mortal's side beside the pure white bandages already laying on the table top. Knowing they would no longer be needed, they left to help the other healers with the preparation of all the medicinal herbs and remedies which the fellowship would take on their perilous journey to Mount Doom.

His deft hands added the necessary herbs to the mixture to thicken it into a thick pulp before he began to mould it gently around her arm, the cast would be strong enough to survive the more common bumps, but any hard hits to it and it would crack, but it would be good enough to send her arm on the pathway of recovery…he hoped.

He had not administered any sleeping agents to the broth she had been fed, her already unconscious state might not have mixed well with any other herbs so he had foregone them, so he was as gentle as he could be as he moulded around her broken arm, hoping not to awaken her. But whatever the catalyst had been, for all he knew, when he would ponder it during later days, it could have been that he was not gentle enough. Either way, she still awoke.

Her eyelids fluttered open for a split second, alerting him to her newly awakened state. Her eyes cloudy she looked around as her eyelids lifted once more, a groggy look passing over her face as she tilted her head to one side, eyes flicking lazily at the people and objects in the unfamiliar room.

It wasn't the room that made it click that she wasn't where she was supposed to be, it was the face staring down at her as she tilted her head back into its former position that caused her eyes to snap open wide, a second before she screamed bloody murder.

With a scream of fright she pulled away from the man above her, not caring that she jarred the still drying mixture on her arm, hardly even realising it was there. What the hell, who the hell…what was going on!

She kicked out with her legs, catching Landon hard on the knees before she managed to scramble over the side of the bed, arm clutched to her front, never once taking her eyes from the wincing elf even as others appeared from the side.

Where…who…who were these people? She backed up tight into the little corner where the bed met the wall, her spine pressed painfully hard against the wooden frame, she wasn't…wasn't supposed to be here, the woods! With those things, why was she here?

There were so many…the person she'd kicked seemed to be talking to another, a dark haired man…the words though, the words, rambling on and on, she didn't, couldn't understand them, the words flowing…like in the forest! They were, like them, the angels! The men who had found her in the forest…like the one who had left her in the bushes…

He wasn't there was he? Oh god, she hoped not, she didn't want him near, he might…might leave her alone again, leave her to those things again. She didn't want that, she didn't want to leave like that, without apologising to her father, to him, to everyone for what she had done, for being such a horrible girl, she didn't want to leave with that guilt, she didn't!

As she looked around, eyes frantically searching, her eyes came upon the twins, the dark haired ones, they were standing just behind the other, older looking dark one. Their father? Well…he looked kind of okay, his eyes were grey though…grey wasn't a nice colour, nope, not one bit.

It was the colour of his eyes, they always went a funny shade of grey/silver when he got angry though, not darker like other people's eyes, she'd noticed that once, a long time ago, but she had. She'd wanted to know him, so she could please him, because if she knew him, she'd know what to do and what not to do. To be good.

_"Lle tyava quel?"_He'd come closer, while she hadn't been looking, an older man, with a grey beard next to him was staring at her. Just…staring.

She shook her head at the grey eyed one, trying to make him understand that she didn't know what he was saying, hoping that he didn't think she was being rude, did they punish rudeness here? Like he did at home?

He didn't stop talking, he just kept going, his hands hovering near her, trying to comfort her? To get her to understand? What did he want? What did they all want? Why couldn't they see that she didn't know…so fast, everything was happening so fast…why, why…

She couldn't breathe, oh god.

Gasping she clutched at her chest, wheezing as her panic overtook her, clenching her chest tightly around her lungs. C-couldn't, she couldn't breathe. Why were they coming so close. Go away, go away! She didn't understand them, the language, so beautiful, yet so strange, didn't they see? Didn't they!

"Why don't you understand!" Slumping back, her limp form slid slowly onto its side, her breathing harsh, face pale as Elrond caught her before her head could hit the floor and gently manoeuvred her into his arms.

_"Her mind cannot cope, she can take no more at this time"_ Elrond stared at the young woman-child in his arms…she looked so tormented, so scared and alone. She had seemed like a small animal, trapped before the predator, the look in her eyes when just before she had fainted would haunt him, the terror, shame, the guilt she felt twisted at his heart. He wished though, that he knew more. Enough to stop the course of action he had to take, for the safety of his people.

_"Elladan, ready the blue room in the North wing and make sure the door is locked and posted under guard at all times"_ The look of shock on both his sons faces made him grimace, he knew they would object.

_"__Ada__! She is of no threat to us, how could she possibly harm us? Look at her!"_ Elrohir pointed at her once more still form, hating the fact that once again, this hurt child would experience a side of the elves that she shouldn't need to.

_"Elrohir you will be silent!"_ Elrond stood, the girl still in his arms as his gaze met Elrohir's, _"Do you not understand that I must look after **my** people first? Until it is agreed by myself and all my advisors that she is of no threat or that it can be proven otherwise, I cannot let her roam freely through Imladris, it is a folly I will not partake in"_

With these last words he placed her back on the bed and walked from the room, heading to his study where the fellowship waited. Cold-hearted he might have seemed, but he too wanted to let her have her freedom, but she hid something and until he knew that that something was not a threat, he couldn't let her go.

* * *

As their Ada had demanded of them, the twin sons of Elrond walked with a graceful stealth towards the North wing, to ready it for the arrival of its, in their minds, unnecessary guest.

Elrohir walked slightly ahead of his brother, his anger barely concealed as he stalked the halls, cursing in his mind his fathers sense of rightness, why did he have to act so? The rules he had to abide by held no power this time, didn't he see? It was wrong of him, cruel of him even to cage the young child away after her attack.

Sometimes his father was too hidden within Imladris to understand those from the outside.

The blue room had been created for the sole purpose of keeping those locked inside if they held questionable intents of the dangerous sorts against Imladris and its people. With no windows apart from a few small slits to let in light and air, the walls were painted a cold silver blue, furniture within the room amounted to a small single bed, a stool with a small dressing table and a small wardrobe, barely able to hold a weeks amount of clothing, let alone the body of a grown person, even a dwarf.

Which was its sole purpose, to hold, but not hide those that Lord Elrond could not ascertain to be of safe intent towards the Last Homely Home.

At least it wasn't the dungeon, that at least calmed Elrohir down partly, his Ada was not that cruel. Which did ease some part of his angered heart, although not completely, his Ada still had a lot to answer for.

But, a small slip within his commands, whether intentional or not had allowed Elrohir the chance to make her more comfortable within her surroundings. He did not know what mortal woman were prone to do within their spare time, and even as he walked ahead of his brother along the silent halls towards her prison, his thoughts wondered to what a mortal would like to do. Whether painting, needlework, maybe even writing, or reading. Though with her lack of understanding of Westron made it impossible for him to give her any books, her tongue was foreign to him and his kin.

Painting would be best, a rather creative activity, perfectly suited to calm the mind or release the darker emotions of the soul. And he had just the things, for he had never been a master at artistry and in his rooms his old set of brushes and paints sat gathering dust. They would be perfect.

_"Elrohir, slow down"_ Quickening his steps Elladan caught up with his silently fuming brother, wondering at his anger, although knowing why it was present, he still wondered at it. Their Ada was only doing what he thought best, yes it was wrong, but there was reasoning to his actions.

_"I see no need to slow 'Dan, I go to prepare the blue room just as __Ada__ requested…though I would ask one favour from you"_ Stopping suddenly, as though his mind had just finally connected with his body after his words were spoken he turned towards his brother. _"My old paints, the ones with the horse hair brushes that Ada gave me for my begetting day while Arwen was away in Lorien, would you go and get them, I think the young mortal may find a better use for them then I ever will"_

* * *

There were no eyes this time, that was good she supposed, no eyes meant no watching, and no watching meant that there was no one there but her, which was always a good thing, when you're alone, nobody can hurt you but yourself, and usually you can control that…usually.

Where was she though? Ahhh, that was a different matter entirely, for when you are on your own in a new place, then you never know what could hurt you and then, it's completely out of your control.

Where…this wasn't the same room as before, the one with all the people. She'd seen the colours of the walls, or lack of said walls. This room though, four walls, all a pale blue, unlike the open, airy windowed room she had been in before, she'd seen lots of white, crisp beds behind the figures so maybe…maybe a ward of some kind?...but what kind? And why had she been moved, this wasn't a room from a hospital, though…she had a feeling that it wasn't a hospital at all, there were no hospitals around near a wood that she knew of, especially with monsters and angels there.

She knew she was someplace else, someplace…different, and she didn't just mean the almost claustrophobic room she was in. She wanted out, wanted familiarity, even if it meant going back to her Father, back to him and the blame, back to the guilt. She'd apologise, do whatever he wanted…even if…if…she didn't like it here.

She wanted out!

Not caring of the pain she felt she tore out of the bed which had cocooned her tired body and stumbled towards the door, not knowing where this sudden recklessness had come from. He could be just outside the door, with that look on his face, the one which said how very very disappointed he was in her…it didn't register, she wanted to see humans again, wanted to hide from the angels and their lieing appearances, the monsters.

Why wouldn't it open? God damnit OPEN!

Her right arm would barely twitch, let alone bang on the door, so her left arm took the brunt of the force, slivers of shock ran through her arm as she yelled, her voice hoarse from her earlier screams.

"Let me out! Let me go! I haven't done anything!"

Those words would get her in trouble she knew, she'd known from a young age that lieing was wrong and she should never do it, and harming her father wasn't exactly nothing…so messed up, it was all so messed up!

_"Lle anta amin tu?"_

Who?

With a small yelp she jumped back, shielding almost instinctively her broken arm as the door suddenly swung open to reveal one of the angels, bright eyes staring at her, just…silently staring…what had he said?

"W-what?" He hadn't come any closer then the doorway, which was good…very good…yeah, but still she found herself slowly backing away, small creeping movements, as long as he didn't come any closer, fine…that would be fine…absolutely.

He kept staring…why, had she grown horns, turned bright red and was encased with the very flames of hell? She looked down, just to check, but just saw pale, limp arm, one encased in a yellow like cast…well, wherever she was, at least she wasn't going to end up with a crippled arm.

You had to focus on the small things, or else you'd go mad, small things helped, easy for the mind to reason with, to understand and digest and…god help her if she went into psychology, that wasn't something small, therefore it wasn't easy to grasp and oh god, she was babbling, in her head…again.

Staring at the bemused looking woman-child Theraleth sighed before silently backing out of the room, knowing that his abrupt entrance had done little to calm her…was best to leave her for now, let her cope with what she could. With a small click the door closed as he pushed the bolt into place, frowning he stared at the bolt in thought before he began to walk away, as instructed he would go and tell the twins of her awakening, they had said they wanted to give her a gift of some kind.

Hopefully it wouldn't be a book, knowing the twins they would forget she did not even speak Westron…it would be just like them.

At the click of the door she looked up, surprised to see the angel like being gone…where? She blinked, and slowly clambered to her knees, before pushing herself up onto her feet, right arm protectively sheltered by her body.

He…she hadn't heard him say anything else, maybe he'd just been curious, after all, she didn't remember seeing any, well…people, normal ones anyway.

She was sure that he hadn't been there on purpose, because…well, what threat was she to them? The door was looked, so, he couldn't have been a guard, unless…unless it was to stop people getting in…she'd had no chance to escape, not with a bloody broken arm.

Was, was he out there? Her father? She paced backwards from the door, eyes widening as she stared in slight fear at the door, expecting it to swing open at any moment to reveal those familiar grey eyes, that frown that…that air of anger, disappointment even.

She didn't want familiarity anymore…she…her head hurt, all the conflicting thoughts and emotions, one minute she wanted to go back home, the next..? Wanted to stay where angels and monsters lived…maybe she was crazy, she could just be dreaming this all up…she hoped so.

She really, really hoped so…


	4. The Simple Things

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Lord of the Rings, the ideas behind it, the places or characters or plot of LOTR. This story is purely for recreational purposes.

* * *

**A/N:** Due to some difficulties about to arise in this story, _italics_ will mean Elvish/none common tongue, while **bold** will stand for common tongue, got it? But only when it's in Rowans point of view, any other and it's none bold. I find bold hurts my eyes if I keep reading it.

* * *

**Warnings:** Confusing ways of showing different languages, be warned! Concentration is necessary!

* * *

**Holding my Soul**

**Chapter Three**

"**The Simple Things"**

In the last few hours she'd realised one thing, she wasn't crazy, because if crazy meant what she had always thought it meant, little pink leprechauns running around with sheep on leashes or something, talking to the grass because it started singing and just other, complete and utter happy crap…she wasn't crazy, not by a long shot. She was in fact, surrounded by angels, monsters in a very nice room in a lot of pain…she wasn't crazy no, she was just severely unlucky.

Very, very much so.

She'd been alone, god, nearly a day, she been watching the sun through the tiny window, watching the rays slowly move across the room. Just like the sun-dial she'd liked to watch at her grandmother's, the little one by the pond, with its black numerals and pretty gold centre, it has always gleamed. When her grandmother had died, she'd never seen it again, never knew which relative had taken it as a reminder, or even if it had been thrown on the scrap heap.

Either way it was gone, somewhere unknown, forgotten.

Had she been forgotten? Were the police still looking for her? Did they even exist in this place? Would her dad happily throw her stuff onto a bonfire, would he even care? No, he never would. Her Father would happily be rid of her, of the nuisance, the annoyance and disappointment.

Such a screw up…

"'**ello?"**

"Ah!" Jumping from her perch by the end of the bed, barely catching herself before she fell, startled by the gruff voice. Her feet suddenly tangled in the hem of the sleeping gown she wore, she fell, hard back onto her perch, grimacing at the jolt to her arm, her face flushed as she stared with wide eyes at the door…that's where it had come from, hadn't it?

There again! She could hear it, right by the keyhole…who?

Nibbling her lip in consternation she slowly edged her way towards the door, keeping out of the line of sight the keyhole allowed, not knowing who could be behind it, maybe watching in?

Her footsteps were slow and quiet as she edged closer, hearing only silence now, had she been hearing things? Maybe a passer by…maybe? They could help!

"Excuse me! Wait!"

No answer…she yelled again, silence…no rough voice from the other side. She stopped, still and sighed, wondering why her imagination had decided to play such tricks on her…she was probably locked in the highest room, in the highest tower of the most isolated area of this place…like sleeping beauty, only there was no beauty sleeping here, only a lost girl, scared.

" '**ello. Whose there?"** She screamed, turned fast and leaned against the door, her breath lodged in her throat, dear god! Who?

"**Well…you're definitely not an elf, good to know, ye shriek like a hammer on metal" **Staring hard at the door, she listened to the strange voce behind it, her breath as quiet as she could make it, barely moving, she stayed as silent as a mouse…

"**I know you're there lass, so no use pretending, not as if I could harm ye in a place filled with these silly elves"** Again, the voice was harsh, felt like when you put a hand through a bush full of tiny prickles, rough, sandpaper like? And the language? What was he speaking? It was obviously a he, or else a she in need of a strepsil…she hoped it wasn't a she.

"W-who is it?" Her voice shaking, her fingers clenched against the door handle, a small reminder, keeping her grounded.

"**If ye want someone to understand ye lass, you're gonna have to speak in something this dwarf can understand…not big on languages ye see"** She still didn't understand, but…it was nice, kind of, to hear another voice, obviously not one of the angel people…didn't sound that bad she supposed…but, hadn't there been one of those beings guarding her door?

"Err, pretty silly of me I k-know, but…you might want to be careful out there, there was a guy…thing by the door…" No reply, she mumbled to herself as she slowly slid down the door, carefully placing her broken arm in her lap "Well, obviously not right now or anything…"

For a while, there was only silence, mixed with a spattering of heavy breathing from the other side of the door.

She wondered what it looked like, a man? No…he would understand her then, right? Nearly every human being knew English, it was like, the universal language…or close enough she supposed.

So…not a man then. He almost sighed in annoyance. Not that anyone so far had been human, or real…maybe? It was difficult, one minute she was surrounded by angelic beings with swords and arrows and the next they left her alone, to her thoughts…that had always been a dangerous thing. When you're on your own, you start to think, to link things together, create a picture you'd rather had stayed in pieces, like a jigsaw, with an image to horrible to conceive as the final result.

Good thing she'd never liked jigsaws then.

But still…it wouldn't hurt to have a look, right? He wouldn't still be looking through the keyhole, he'd have to bend down and that would start hurting after a while…unless he was kneeling, but then that would start hurting too…it should be a lot, just a quick glance…nothing more.

Slowing, she turned to her side, leaning against the door for support as she peered into the keyhole…and an eye stared back at her, surrounded in red.

"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Falling backwards, she scuttled back, oh god! A demon! A-a…something! It'd been RED!

"**By the…are ye wanting to make a dwarf deaf! Stop screaming! You'll have those ruddy elves back!"**

W-what the? Trying to catch the breath which seemed to have lodged itself in her throat she tried to cling to the floor with her good hand, as if it would protect her in some way against the…thing out there.

There was silence once more, after it had finished yelling, though its harsh breathing could be heard right by the keyhole…it hadn't sounded…angry, though…didn't red usually signify anger? Or something or other, but it had to be a good thing that whatever it was on the other side had burst through the doors when she'd practically screamed at its eye.

"**Well, some strange lass ye be, I can tell ye that right now. By me sire, ye trying to put me in early tomb?"** He couldn't hear the strange lass anymore, she'd been muttering away to herself ever since he had first spoken, strange…very strange.

"**Obviously, ye're scared of a dwarf, could be the hair or something but I don't take ye for a frivolous one, must've done something to annoy the pointy ears, I like ye for that alone you daft lass, so, from one dwarf to a fellow outsider around here, I might as well keep ye company, fine day like this and everything…"**

**

* * *

**­­­­­­­­­­­He didn't know how long he'd been speaking, he knew the lass didn't understand a word of it, common tongue that it was. He'd even tried some dwarvish, all he'd heard was a strange gurgle and a snort…well, he already knew she was strange, and a human, he'd heard the way she spoke, and how clumsy she was, definitely a mortal. 

He had no clue why she would a prisoner of the elves though, had she caught one with a spec of mud on their person, caught them when they weren't at their very best, vain lot. He snorted, sounded about right…ruddy pointy eared…

"_Dwarf!_ _What permission do you have to be in this area of Imladris!"_ With a startled cry he barely managed to keep himself on his feet when he saw three elves storming towards him, one with a large box in his hand.

Raising an eyebrow he stared at them, did they really believe he'd know their runny sounding language?

"Speaking in common tongue is something ye'd think elves would do around us without pointy ears, gracious hosts that I've heard ye to be" Completely forgetting about the female he had previously been speaking to, his voice held a hint of malice to it as he stared at the three elves, wondering why they had such a large box for the woman, as he'd not heard a single sole down this corridor apart from her.

Sneaky people, elves, could look at ye all pretty and kind, next ye knew they had a sword pointed at your throat. Skinny looking swords if he'd ever seen one, axes, now they were weapons of war, one slice and you're enemy was as good as horse manure.

He smirked when he saw one of those twins look at him in confusion, before it dawned upon it that he didn't exactly understand them. Did he look like a stupid elf? He looked down…just to check, no he was still a dwarf, thank Balin!

"We can be gracious to those it is deemed appropriate" Staring down at the gaping dwarf, Elladan tried not to grimace, he held no extreme dislike to the creatures but…their manner was so rough, he cringed, and the rough border of red hair did not help…personal hygiene did not seem to be very high on a dwarves list of importance. Though…he wished it was.

"Hmmph, well, if ye can be gracious hosts, why have ye got a lass locked up, sounds like she's hurt to me, either that or she's a clumsy thing" Gimli stared at them, one bushy red eyebrow raised, waiting for a response before he would be on his way, he's be back though, if the lass was still there.

He saw the elf behind the twins frown slightly at his question, ahah! So the lass was a touchy subject…very interesting.

"The lady is of no concern to yourself, and we do not want you distressing her anymore…please _leave_" Elladan spoke once more, hearing the almost silent shifting of Theraleth behind him, wondering silently what had happened while he had left his post to find them.

"Fine, I'll be leaving but I'll be back!" Shaking his head in annoyance Gimli walked away, glancing back occasionally to see three sets of staring eyes, he grimaced, what exactly could a young lass do against elves anyway? Pah, he still thought they were a vain lot.

* * *

Elrohir sighed, shifting the box in his grasp as the Dwarf moved out of sight. 

"_Let us hope Ada doesn't hear of this, he'll have our hides for leaving the door unguarded"_ He said no more, and waited while Theraleth unbolted the door and unlocked it quickly, keeping it shut with a tight grip on the handle, just in case she tried to make an escape.

"_I wouldn't be surprised if she is huddling away in a corner, we raised our voices enough to scare her"_ The others had thought it as well, they just nodded, bracing themselves for the more then likely pitiful sight they would see once more.

The door opened silently, Theraleth first, bracing himself for any sort of impact if she tried to push him out of the way. None of the elves thought she would try such a thing, she was too hurt and too scared to do much, but fear did make irrational beings out of people, and their Ada would already be angry enough if he heard about how they had allowed a dwarf to converse with her when the guard post had been abandoned.

Sensing she was not near the door, Theraleth opened it fully, allowing the two twins entrance into the room.

It didn't take long to find her, her small form curled up tightly in the corner farthest away from the door, trembling, pale, frightened…

She was huddled up in her little corner, not wanting to move, not wanting to let them see her. The yelling, the shouting…raised voices, she didn't like it, she didn't. He'd sounded so angry outside the door, so different from before, a quick change, snap! And you missed it, like him, he could do that, smile and be kind, then shout and yell.

She didn't want to go back, he couldn't be here, he couldn't!

She'd curled up, the yelling all too familiar, and knew that the smaller she made herself the less pain she would feel when the hitting began. She hadn't meant to make them angry. Maybe they hadn't wanted her to speak to anyone, had she somehow broken some unspoken rule…or a rule she hadn't understood?

When the door had opened she'd whimpered, unintentionally, but she had, and now she could feel them, their eyes, watching her, silently. Not looking up she drew her legs in tighter, pressing hard against her chest, cutting off her breath.

She didn't look up until she felt the light touch on her arm, she jerked up, a startled cry falling from her lips as she pressed further back, staring into a pair of concerned grey eyes surrounded by dark brown hair and also a pair of pointed ears…go figure.

She made no noise as she stared at them, two kneeling twins and the other close behind…the ones from the group from before. Had they come to take her away? Her eyes slid over the box the twin furthest away held and frowned…it was quite a large box, why would they bring a large box to her? She was locked up, a prisoner…and you didn't give prisoners gifts.

She really didn't want to see what was in that box, really really.

She watched as they talked between each other for a few moments before Twin One, the closest one, reached out again but this time his hand went to her shoulder and patted her…a tentative movement, like one would use with a cornered animal, a reassuring action.

Staring down in confusion at his hand, she shivered…he was touching her, soothing her…why?

Nobody…had ever done that before and meant it, even he hadn't, he'd stroke her hair, murmur nice things before hitting her, hurting her, yell, insult, scream even. No…nobody had, nobody _would_ ever be that nice.

She shrugged off his hand and turned her face away, as if that would hide her from them, like an innocent child hiding their eyes and singing 'You can't see me' to their pursuers.

She heard them talking again, about her? About something obviously.

It was then she heard the faint rattle, very faint but distinctive…like…something inside a shaken box. Lifting her head, Rowan raised an eyebrow as she saw Twin Two rattle the box again, staring intently at her, trying to catch her attention. She wanted to be offended at his actions, but she'd rather he shake a box at her then hit her for being insulting.

The others moved back slowly as Twin Two stayed where he was, box in hand, eyes never leaving her, before he gently, ever ever so gently moved forward and placed the box at her feet and kneeled there, not moving, crowding her in slightly, but didn't move. Just…waited.

None were yelling, they weren't even making a single noise. Well, they wanted her to open the box, that was certain, she didn't want to refuse, the none twin had a small sword at his side…she'd rather he not use it on her.

Fingers trembling slightly, she reached with her left hand for the box, keeping an eye on the others, seeing if they were going to stop her, lash out, something. But they didn't, they just watched as her fingers latched onto the edge of the box and she pulled it to her side, closer, it's heaviness making it impossible to lift with one hand onto her lap.

No longer looking at them, she flicked the odd looking latch open, and lifted the lid gently, peering inside, curiosity welling up within her, wondering what mystery could be there. She froze…and stared bemusedly…

…paintbrushes a-and, paints. She dipped a hand in, and fingered the creamy coloured paper, the rough texture telling her instantly what it was, parchment. Like she'd been shown once in her history class.

They'd brought her a paint set.

Three strangers…had brought her a paint set.

A single tear fell as she picked up a small brush, the soft bristles bending under the pad of her thumb. She giggled, it spilt from her lips without thought before she was able to choke it back…how, how was it possible?

She placed it down, almost reverently, feeling nauseous yet, calm and she looked up, seeing the confused looks on their faces.

Reaching out a single hand she bit back a slight whimper, hoping that he would let her, not think it offensive…and touched the fingers which supported his leaning form on the floor.

"Thank you"

* * *

They'd left her, staring almost blankly at the opened box, a small smile playing at the edges of her mouth. 

Hopefully she understood, that no matter what, they held no malice towards her. They knew their Ada meant no harm, but she did not, and had helped however they could. Though, Elrohir knew they would have to inform their Ada about the dwarf, although many had seen her, none had spoken to her, none were meant to have spoken to her to be completely honest, as her land, her loyalties even were still not known.

They had left Theraleth at the door once more, though unbolted. She had been too enthralled by the small gift to do much. He sighed and shook a strand of hair from his eyes, she had seemed so…shocked over such a simple thing, playing with the brushes as if they were blocks of gold. Her shock, yes, may have been in part the fact that they had given her such a thing, but she had looked as though she had never seen such things before, presented to her in such a way.

Strange, just like everything surrounding her.

Strange language, clothing, reactions, bruises…though some were obviously attributed to the manhandling of the Orcs, other though, were shaped like those of a hand, a mortal hand, too large to be her own, almost like those of Aragorn's…a man's hands.

She had been abused, the bruises that littered her body said as much, her eyes flickered with fear whenever one approached her, not the caution of the unknown, but the fear of one afraid of touch, hands, anything close enough to reach out and smack her, reprimand her even.

The imprisonment was not helping he knew, hopefully Ada would see she meant no harm, maybe even ask Gandalf to see if she would be safe amongst the populace of Imladris. Like Glorfindel, he wondered at times, where the famed hospitality of the elves? Had the dark times leeched it away, turned even them into distrusting, harmful beings?

* * *

Smiling gently as he watched his sons from the balcony, Elrond praised them for their kindness to the poor woman-child. Who would have known that such a simple gift would eventually lead to such a change... 

"I think, that we should see just how 'dangerous' our new guest is" Seeing the old wizard nod as he brought out his pipe Elrond nodded to the guard by the rooms entrance and watched as in silence he disappeared.

The famed hospitality of the elves was not completely dead after all.

**Thank you to all the reviewers **

Dazzler420, pixie-person , Neenuvar, Darkness Gathered, diet coke

**Read and Review!**

**Mademoiselle Morte**


	5. The Giving of a Name

**A/N **I would like to inform my readers of a new addition to the Holding my Soul project, a good friend of mine (a frequent reader to this site) has agreed to help beta my work, as the other one kinda went away away….cries so say hi to Katie! Don't we love her, she makes my work readable! Her help also works on self esteem, though she just reminded me that since sarcasm cannot be easily portrayed online that I should put demolishing before self esteem…as we wouldn't want any of you to get the wrong idea

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**Disclaimer:**I do not own Lord of the Rings, the ideas behind it, the places or characters or plot of LOTR. This story is purely for recreational purposes.

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**Warning: slow start, but this chapter is for a reason!**

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**Holding my Soul**

**Chapter Four**

**The Giving of a name**

It was soft…it felt like silk almost, but that was silly, paintbrushes weren't made fromsilk, not only was impractical but expensive, and she'd never known anyone wanting to spend such amounts of money on something so…little and seemingly insignificant.

It was lovely though, just like everything else in this place, even in her…prison, everything was beautiful, crafted for royalty…she shook her head, it was a silly idea.

There was no way that Royalty lived in this sort of place, in a wood!...though, if that wood was anywhere near her home, she…she just didn't know anymore. Sighing, she carefully placed the brush back in its case by the parchment. That was another thing she didn't understand, why parchment…yeah, it went with the 'theme' of bows and arrows and even, she shuddered, the swords and monsters, but why not paper…it made no sense.

There had been silence since they had left, she hadn't really registered them leaving, too enthralled by the gift…;a gift, so simple yet meaning so much.

They wouldn't harm her.

Well, at least _they_ wouldn't… the twins and the other one, Thera-something, she'd heard them call him that before they had arrived in this place. Would the others though? She shuddered, slowly getting up from her little corner, prickles of numbness encasing her legs. Wincing, Rowan stumbled clumsily to the bed and fell heavily, stretching out her legs, flexing and waiting for the prickles to fade away.

Thoughtfully, she played with the rough edge of her 'cast'.

She loved to paint, always had in school, not that she was very good mind you but…she liked it all the same; the flowing colours, slowly coming together to create something special…unique. But no…certainly not, the set before her looked so expensive…why would they give her something like that? W-what if she ruined it?

No, she wouldn't push her luck…they'd already been so kind, i-it wouldn't be right.

She stared at it for a long time, eyes never moving, even as she continued playing with the edge of the cast. No, she wouldn't.

Turning onto her side, she lay down fully on the bed, not caring as the skirt tangled in her legs, constricting her movement to almost nothing. She felt so tired; she blinked rapidly, trying to keep herself awake.

She felt her eyelids droop as she gave in and allowed herself to fall asleep, the stress of the day catching up to her. It didn't last for long though, just as her eyes closed, the sound of the door opening jerked her into full awareness.

Were they back already?

Her head turned to face the opening door, she froze…she didn't know who that was, oh god, who was it? Her eyes flickered down to the sword at his side, a guard…where was the other one, wanted the other one. Unmindful of her heavy breathing she watched as the guard approached, a purposeful stride to him.

It wasn't until she felt the hand on her arm…an unknown hand, that she screamed, loud and hard, her voice a high pitch as she felt her body begin to shiver. Where were they? Where? She didn't know this one, didn't…where?

"_Uuma dela, uuma dela!"_ That voice…she knew that voice, it was the guard, _her _guard! He was here, her breathing slowed, her eyes fixed on _him_, as if that alone would keep him near, no longer though, was the new one touching her, she could hear the other one!

Theraleth watched as her breathing began to slow, the short, quick gasps of breath she had been struggling to take became long and even. Giving a quick glance to Finrod as the elf backed away, confused at the strange behaviour of their 'guest', he beckoned Finrod outside of the door, letting the young mortal calm herself, knowing the shock was not helping her already fragile state.

"_So rash an action is not your usual way Finrod, what right do you have?"_ Closing the door gently behind him he watched the younger elf before him.

"_I was not told of her condition, all I do know is that she is a prisoner within Imladris until it is proven she is not dangerous."_ He paused, looked towards Theraleth "_Why did she shy away so? I had no intention of harming her"_

Finrod stood, tall and proud even as he stared, confusion rampant in his eyes as he looked towards Theraleth. A young elf, Finrod was sometimes, too serious for his age, taking things far too literally, trying to please Lord Elrond to the best of his abilities.

Theraleth tried hard not to rub away the dull pain behind his eyes "_What were your commands from Lord Elrond?"_

"_He gave no specific commands, just spoke of the 'guest' and that I am to bring her to the meeting room where Mithrandir also currently resides." _Theraleth nodded in though, so he had not been told of her condition. Why though? Unless Lord Elrond had not deemed it necessary, though that did not make sense.

"_Worry not Finrod, go back to Lord Elrond and please inform him that I will be bringing the mortal woman to the meeting room." _She would be much less likely to panic if he was the one taking her there, she knew him, although only slightly, it was more then with most of the elves of Imladris.

She heard them talking outside the door, flowing words melding together. It was almost hypnotising, beautiful really, like they were. She wished she knew what they were saying though, ; it made her nervous, she knew they were talking about her, like when someone whispers behind your back while you're in the same room.

Unnerving and unwanted.

Then, it stopped. Suddenly, silence surrounded her, no more words or footsteps…even the sounds of breathing. Frowning, she looked towards the closed door, where had they gone? She hadn't heard a sound, not one.

Shaking her head in wonder and slight fear, Rowan kept her eyes fixed on the door, her stomach curling into a hard knot. She didn't know exactly how she knew but it hit her, and she did, she didn't know who, but at least one of them was still out there, waiting in silence.

Wondering if she should call out or not, her throat seemed to close up tight, a fist clenching, not letting go. Why were they being so silent? Trying to trick her…wait till she slept before taking her wherever they intended to?

Why were they being so silent?

She could feel her chest against her lungs, like a band tightening and tightening, until she could feel the familiar rise of panic bubble up inside.

Squeezing her eyes shut she turned away from the door, unable to look, as if like a child, hoping that not seeing meant not being seen. A child's game, that's all it was, just a game…a game. Maybe she was dreaming? They'd been so nice to her; with the paints…they wouldn't hurt her. She cringed, unless it wasn't one of them, unless it was one of the others, oh god, they had locked her in here, they would hurt her, just like he had. _He_ used to wait until there was silence, midnight, the best time. So he could easily hear her panicked whimpers as she tried in vain to stay silent…he'd liked to punish her for noise, no, she wasn't allowed to make any noise.

Respect your elders, never talk against one, they always know better. That had been his motto, and she'd respected that, he was her elder and he knew best, but it had hurt, the fists, the knuckles, they always had, and she'd always made a noise, always gone against his better judgement. Discipline was the key…always the key.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn't even hear the click of the door opening, allowing admittance to Theraleth, a look of consternation on his face as he pondered how exactly the young woman-child would take meeting Lord Elrond. Although kind, he did cut an imposing figure to those unused to him. He hoped that she would be well.

He saw her then, face scrunched up tight in thought. Biting back a small laugh, he remembered Estel pulling that face when he had been an infant, confused about some matter far too 'worldly' for his young years. What bothered her young mind so?

He walked towards her, purposely allowing his footfalls sound throughout the chamber, letting her know of his presence before he was able to get too close to her. Like a frightened animal, he knew she would bolt if taken by surprise.

He waited for a few moments longer, waiting to see if she would glance his way. She didn't, her eyes were seemingly focused to a place he could not see, the place she had come from? Most likely, though a demon's place it was wont to be…he knew those marks on her were not all Orc made. No, a demons place indeed.

When she gave no motion of seeing him standing there he walked forward, making sure to allow his feet to make small pat pattering sounds on the floor, hoping to gain her attention without scaring her.

It worked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise she turned her head towards him, her eyes flashing before hiding behind lowered eyelids, she didn't back away though, her posture so rigid a slight breeze could have rocked her from the bed.

"_Come young one"_ he held his hand out, palm flat, letting her see he concealed nothing within "_I am sure you will much enjoy being free from this room, will you not?"_ Knowing no reply would come forth, he just waited, letting her know that he was there, unthreatening.

He watched the dark of her eyes widen as he gave her his hand, she flinched, ever, ever so slightly from his fingertips before taking a deep gulp of air and spoke.

"W-What?"

Silence, her foreign words dieing a quick death as Theraleth looked at her, slight confusion etched on his face, before he, once more, pushed his hand towards her again, motioning her to take it.

Cringing, Rowan looked around her, not wanting to take the hand in front of her, but he was blocking the door…would it be an insult not to take it? H-he was one of the _nice_ ones after all.

Well, it didn't seem that he was going to move. These…people were…she wasn't sure if stubborn was right…they told her what to do…well, not so much as told, but they did, and she had a feeling this was another one of those being told–yet–not–being-told things.

And he had made the other one go away, she saw no sign of him behind _her_ one.

But…she couldn't, her hand lay frozen at her side, not moving, not even twitching. No, please no, she didn't want to disobey, it usually hurt when she did, had to be punished if she was bad, please…_please_ _move_.

It wouldn't. She felt numb, choking back a sob she closed her eyes, what would he think? She was being difficult…being _disobedient._

She wasn't, she swore she wasn't, she was trying, really she was.

It was just so god damn hard. If she took his hand, he could hurt her, punish her, because she would be _letting_ him. A stranger no less, would he take it as a sign of trust? B-because…she couldn't.

Trust…did she even know what that was anymore…she'd trusted him…both of them her entire life to make sure she wouldn't become what her father said she would…yet everyday, on and on and on, he came, the punishments…trust.

What did it even mean?

Was it betrayal? Letting your own flesh and blood lead a life of sin? A life she had tried to escape, yet…he'd hurt her, accused her of things she hadn't done, why…why had he done that. When she'd _trusted _him.

The saying went you couldn't choose your family, but you could choose your friends. Was trust the same thing, could she choose this time? Choose not to give it out blindly to some strange being in an even stranger place?

Seemingly not.

She let a slight whimper escape her lips when she felt cool fingers wrapping around her nerveless hand, rough fingertips gripping her.

Trust…choice…if they did exist…well…she hoped they did, somewhere…

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He kept his steps small and steady, never breaking the slow pace through the halls, never taking his eyes from her ashen face. He had not realised a person could become so pale, the blood had drained from her face as though it had never been there. 

Those who had been in the halls had seen his controlled steps, slowly leading a mortal woman-child from the wing where those under suspicion were kept, and left, silent footfalls echoed harmlessly in the calm air.

Rowan, barely two small steps behind him was shaking, hard. Quietly she let him lead her, not knowing if her legs would keep her body up for the duration of their journey.

He'd not spoken a word to her since he had taken her hand in her room, no more then a few minutes ago.

She had no clue where he was taking her, though, by the way everyone around them was disappearing, she got the feeling that it was better she didn't know in advance…or were they running from her? No, they couldn't be, how could she possibly scare them? She was just being silly, she wasn't that important, being ignored was more the general response she got from other people, at school, sometimes at home.

The cool palm enclosing her hand tightened its grip ever so slightly just before she felt the guard halt. Feeling her feet stumble beneath her she clung tightly to his hand, righting herself as she clenched her other arm to her side. She felt more then saw him move to the side, allowing her to see the large door set into the wall ahead.

Biting back a small gasp she blinked before staring at the curved doors, were they pure silver?

They certainly looked like it.

She didn't want to go in, as much as the shining silver drew her like a child at Christmas, she didn't want to go in to see what those majestic doors hid. No one had doors of such design unless they were rich, rich and powerful, and powerful usually meant trouble.

It was hard to know how the doors suddenly opened, but they did, without a sign of another being outside the doors but themselves, and those she then saw seated in the room, there was no one.

How…?

Shaking her head, Rowan didn't know what to think if she hadn't seen what she had so far, she would have believed them to be those doors which activated via sensors…but she had a feeling that wherever she was, was much, much more archaic then she wished to believe.

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Elrond sat in the chair centrally placed to the now closed doors, watching the young woman-child discreetly as she hesitantly allowed Theraleth to lead her to her seat. An unusual development indeed, had Glorfindel not told him of Theraleth's initial attitude to her before? 

He had a feeling he was not the only one to have a warmer attitude towards her, understandably so. She looked like…like the finest piece of glass, so thin it was almost as though it was not even there, so fine, so…fragile.

The poor thing looked like she was about to collapse with her tremors.

Maybe he should have brought her to him earlier, obviously she had not fared very well with only her thoughts to plague her already confused mind.

He could still see it though, the sadness, the all consuming despair and darkness surrounding her…he knew she hid something, knew whatever it was consumed what little was left of what had obviously been a beautiful little child.

He had already sent out orders for the blue room to be closed up once more, the North wing would once again be vacant even as she would be moved to the West wing, the guest wing. . .

He had been remiss in his actions against her, he knew that now, long conversations held with Galadriel had helped reveal more of this situation to him then he had previously known. This child…young lady even, needed their help if she were to survive to reach her majority. Such torment…such pain…yet so much hope.

He smiled gently when her shaking legs gave out, letting her fall that last bit onto the chair, she made no noise though, only biting her lip, fidgeting all the while to get comfortable while Theraleth stood silently behind her chair, a single palm resting against the frame.

"_Greetings Theraleth, greetings young one"_ Knowing she did not understand them was no reason to be impolite, if anything she would understand the essential meaning of what they spoke.

Theraleth tilted his head slightly to the side and down, a sign of respect without the formality of a full bow.

"_Lord Elrond, Mithrandir, I bid you welcome"_

"And to you young Theraleth" Gandalf turned questioning eyes towards the young child "How does she fare with the famous hospitality of the elves?" Ignoring Elrond silent glance and Theraleth's affronted look, Gandalf waited for no answer before he made his way cautiously towards her now shaking form, dark green eyes watching his every move as the space between the two slowly closed.

"She has…fared no ill effects from her stay as of yet" Theraleth knew that, as much as he wanted to, he could not so bluntly mar the normally good reputation of the hospitality of the elves, even in front of Mithrandir.

Her eyes were surprisingly blank of any emotion, a deadened gaze, but they made no immediate mention of it, instead…hoping to bring her out of her shell. As such, when Gandalf approached her, he let a single, gnarled old hand fall gently onto her clenched fist, making no other motion, no sound as he felt the muscles beneath her skin shift as she quivered, like a frightened doe under threat.

Her eyes eventually met his own, flickering back and forth, unsure and afraid when she felt the old mans hand move from her own upwards, she flinched before she realised he was pointing to himself and saying one word over and over…like…like a name!

"**Gandalf"**

His name was Gandalf? She frowned, she'd never heard any name like that…unless you considered a name like Gareth to be similar, it was fitting though, the others had strange names too, like that Glorfinden angel man and her guard, Thera-something, did no one have a normal name?

Her contemplations were drawn short when she felt the burning of their eyes watching her, waiting for some sort of reaction or reply.

"**And would you grace us with your name lady?"**

She managed not to jump at the voice from behind her, turning to see her guard watching her intently. Frowning she turned back to the other two, what were they asking her? She didn't understand what they wanted.

His hand gently squeezed her own, she felt her hands clench tight trying to withdraw,and she watched as Gandalf pointed to himself, said his name and then slowly pointed at her and…waited.

…her name!

She blushed and looked away, of course, silly idiot, she should have known. Silly of her really, she could be so stupid at times.

Voice so low she cringed at the thought of having to repeat herself for them, she whispered, voice shaking.

"Rowan"

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Her eyes flickered open and stared up at the cream ceiling…where…? 

A lump catching in her throat she stared in morbid horror at the ceiling…this…the other room hadn't had a cream ceiling, the little one.

Oh god…she knew a room which did though, it had a cream ceiling, with those slight textured swirls which she had found so fascinating as a child to follow around the entire 'canvas'…it was dark, but she could tell the ceiling above her wasn't the smooth blankness of the blue room…

She didn't want to see a textured cream ceiling, no…no, she didn't want to be here…

She didn't want to be home.

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Read and review!

Yes shorter then usual i know but for some reason the chapter took an entirely new twist and i decided this was a good place to end it while i see where this new twist leads me. Sorry for the wait!


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